


keeping count

by Evening_Winds



Series: to win at life [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: (and eventual comfort), (mostly implied/referenced but it's there), (which will be remedied later), Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Lack of Communication, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Rated T for:, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Build, Swearing, also by being an unreliable narrator, but it's more like friends/rivals to rivals/idiots to friends again to lovers, but they're always idiots as well. just a different flavor of idiot in different parts of the fic, i just realized there's no Friends to Enemies to Lovers tag. what the heck, i meant to write a short one-shot but then. well., rai has emotional baggage and he deals with it by not dealing with it, the swearing starts right away; the others won't be until way later, there's a Lot going on i guess is what i'm saying, this fic is like 70 percent angst and i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evening_Winds/pseuds/Evening_Winds
Summary: Raihan pressed his forehead against the cold metal of his locker, weakly punched the one next to it and didn’t let the all-too-familiar imaginary scenario escalate further.He wished it had been the losses. It would have been easier to deal with.- - -aka as the years go by, some things change. some things don’t. raihan was painfully aware of both of these facts.aka maybe your rival isn’t your greatest foe, after all
Relationships: Dande | Leon & Kibana | Raihan, Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Series: to win at life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102253
Comments: 156
Kudos: 205





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _this was supposed to be a short and simple one-shot but then i felt compelled to write a decade's worth of backstory again_ – an autobiography by me
> 
> here i am, once again, with the fluff and the angst and the idiots with the Feelings™. this fic has been living rent-free in my brain since july and i’m finally forcing myself to finish it.
> 
> it all began when i was talking with a friend about Factories (the Autoheart song, not the fic series i wrote) and the lyric “you can’t tell a loser how to win a battle” and how it would make for a great fic title and she, being the enabler she is, gave me the initial idea for this one. but then i started building up on that idea, digging deeper and thinking about jealousy and perfectionism and trust issues and feelings of inadequacy and the build-up to a bitter rivalry and being certain of all the wrong things and the mortifying ordeal of being known and all that fun stuff. to no one’s surprise, things got Out Of Hand and way more convoluted. in the end, this wound up being a very different fic than i had originally planned and _at least_ 20k words longer than i had signed up for ~~(edit: make that 30k)~~. whoops. enjoy, i guess!
> 
> the reference to that song lyric stayed, though, albeit with different wording. see if you can catch it later. that scene is where it all began.
> 
> and please, whenever i talk about raihan smiling (instead of grinning or smirking), picture that :3 face he makes....... you know what i’m referring to...... thank you.......
> 
> unbeta’d, EFL, yadda yadda, you know the deal.

**[0-0]**

_(He didn’t know it then, but this is when the counter would start, on this very afternoon two days after his last day of primary school._

_Years later, at the hospital, he would look back on that sunlit day – on those first few moments of perfect equilibrium before the first number ticked up, before his own mind tricked him into throwing everything off balance right from the beginning – and realize where it all had started going wrong._

_But, alas, it would take him years.)_

. . .

Summer break.

It would be pretty different this year, wouldn’t it? For a number of reasons.

Raihan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. No matter. He had his letter, his Trapinch, and some money saved up. Maybe he didn’t have anything else in the first place, but it was all he needed.

And maybe it had been a mistake, but he didn’t care right then. This summer would be a new beginning. Rebirth. He was going to show his teeth. Prove himself. Make everyone see that maybe, just maybe, they had been wrong about him all along.

(In this case, ‘everyone’ included himself.)

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He had reached his destination. There were only a few wild Pokémon shuffling around in the tall grass under the brilliantly clear sky and no other people in sight. Good. He rarely ran into anyone here, and that’s why he had originally been drawn to this place in a remote corner of the South Wild Area by Lake Miloch. Maybe the strong Pokémon that lived there kept most people at bay; wild Duraludon roamed the nearby area, and Raihan had seen a very mean-looking Gyarados swimming in the lake multiple times. But he knew that as long as he was careful and didn’t go out of his way to aggravate the wild Pokémon, he would be perfectly fine.

He carefully finagled Trapinch out of the hood of his sweatshirt. The Pokémon had been wandering near his house on his tenth birthday. He hadn’t the foggiest how it had gotten so far away from its natural habitat. A stray, perhaps? The Pokémon had been wary and skittish at first, but after a few weeks of trust-building, Raihan had taken him in – it was a he – and kept him as a pet heedless of the house rules. Although that had happened over a year ago, Trapinch still didn’t have a Poké Ball, so he traveled in Raihan’s hood or on his shoulders.

Then again, Raihan mused as he set his Pokémon down onto the grass, Trapinch was well-behaved and small. He could do without a ball for now. Raihan had to be careful with his money and focus his attention and resources to catching new teammates instead. A single-Pokémon Trainer wasn’t going to get very far in the Challenge, after all.

The Gym Challenge! He had been counting the days to it. Not that it was in any way required, as there was only a single weekend between the day he got the letter and the opening ceremony, but making lists and keeping count of things, either mentally or on paper, was his way of making sense of the world; breaking it into smaller, more manageable chunks, so to speak. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked northward. Over there, beyond the horizon, far away from his current life, awaited a brighter future. And it would start tomorrow.

He knew he was still pretty inexperienced. They both were, Trainer and Pokémon alike. For the most part, he knew the theory but lacked practice. Their training sessions didn’t include a lot of battling, per se – Raihan didn’t want to overexert his partner as there were no Pokémon Centers close to where he lived nor on his way to the lake. Still, Raihan could tell that Trapinch would grow up to be a great Pokémon.

This would be their last training session at the lake before the start of the Challenge. Maybe it would have been a better idea to take the day to rest and get a full night’s sleep; he would have to leave early the next morning in order to get registered and buy some supplies before the opening ceremony in the afternoon. But he had wanted to get some more training in, and this was the best place for it despite being a ways off. He probably wouldn’t be sleeping a wink, anyhow, considering that he was already jittery with nerves and excitement.

Squaring his shoulders, Raihan glanced down at his partner and smiled. “Let’s get started, then.”

Trapinch trilled his assent.

. . .

Raihan had been right about other people usually keeping clear of the area.

This time was different, though.

He and Trapinch had gotten halfway through their usual training regime when it was suddenly interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

Raihan just barely bit back the startled yelp that tried to escape his mouth. Turning around, he found himself eye-to-eye with the source of the voice – a boy around his age, wearing a sunny smile and the most outrageous and mismatched outfit Raihan had ever seen. The only salvageable part was the plain black snapback keeping his wild hair in check.

“Um.” Raihan instinctively took a step back. “Yes?”

“Hi,” the boy continued vivaciously. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Which way to Motostoke?”

Raihan quickly regained his aplomb and raised an eyebrow at the stranger. “You’re in the entirely wrong direction.”

“Oh?”

“Motostoke’s up north. This is the southeasternmost corner of the Wild Area.”

“Ah.” A brief pause. The boy’s smile faded a little. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

The boy just kept staring at him blankly.

“North’s that way,” Raihan said, slightly exasperated, and pointed in the right direction.

The boy looked at the direction Raihan had indicated. “I-I knew that!” he hastily stammered, snapping his gaze back to Raihan with a visible blush on his cheeks. “I’m not lost or anything.”

Raihan stifled a laugh and relaxed. What a terrible liar the guy was! “It’s nearly a three-hour walk from here. Or longer, if you forget where north is,” he snarked without any real malice in his voice.

The other boy laughed. “Yeah. I probably will,” he admitted, and the brilliant smile was back on his face. “But since the Gym Challenge season’s starting, there’s lots of friendly travelers around who’ll help me get there. Like you! Are you a Challenger, too?”

“Yeah,” Raihan managed at length. Against all odds, he was.

The boy held his gaze. It would have been almost unnerving if his smile hadn’t been so wide and genuine. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“…Raihan.”

“I’m Leon. Do you wanna battle?”

Raihan froze. When two Trainers met on their journey, it was customary to battle. Walk up to someone and maintain eye contact – that was the signal. Everyone knew it.

But the Challenge hadn’t started yet. It would have been perfectly fine to say no.

“Okay,” is what he said instead.

This would be the beginning. The very first step. He could feel it.

Before long, the two were standing across from each other on the opposite sides of their makeshift pitch comprised of a few lines in the sand.

Leon was eyeing Raihan’s Trapinch curiously. “Do you wanna do one-on-one or - -”

“One-on-one works fine,” Raihan blurted, cutting the other boy off. He didn’t want to admit that his Trapinch was, in fact, his only Pokémon. For now.

Leon nodded. “Is he your starter?”

“Y-yeah. He is.”

Leon nodded again and chose one of the Poké Balls at his belt. “In that case, I’ll send out my starter as well.”

. . .

**[1-0]**

And so, Raihan’s first ever match against another Trainer ended in defeat.

What a promising start, he thought to himself as he kneeled down and gathered Trapinch in his arms. Should’ve seen this coming. It’s all downhill from here.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he whispered and pressed his face against Trapinch’s snout. “I wasn’t good enough this time, either.”

But… It had been fun. He never would have guessed that battling would feel, _could_ feel, like this.

“That was a great match!”

Raihan lifted his gaze toward the voice. His victorious opponent was smiling down at him and offering him a Potion. “Here,” Leon said.

“Thanks,” Raihan mumbled.

Leon set down his backpack and sat down beside him. “Your Trapinch doesn’t know any offensive Ground-type moves yet, does he?” he asked and began tending to his own Pokémon. “Those would’ve been really helpful since they’re super effective against my Charmander! But I’m pretty sure he’ll be able to learn one soon. Just keep training! And when he evolves into Vibrava and gains a secondary type, he’ll even resist Fire-type moves! Of course, once Charmander fully evolves, he’ll be completely immune to Ground-type moves, being Fire/Flying and all… Then again, while Flygon doesn’t naturally learn any Rock-type moves, he should be able to with Technical Machine training if you were so inclined! Oh, and did you know…”

And on and on and on. All sorts of facts and minute details Raihan hadn’t bothered to memorize fell from Leon’s lips in a never-ending string. Raihan couldn’t help but be impressed. Did this guy have a Pokédex for a brain or what?

After a little while, Leon kept stealing wary glances at Raihan and his babbling began to falter. That’s when Raihan realized that he should probably take part in the conversation, too, instead of just sitting there and listening in astonished silence like an idiot. Once he managed to speak up, Leon’s whole face lit up. He resumed the conversation with new-found enthusiasm, stumbling over his words a bit as if his mouth was having difficulty keeping up with his brain, and attentively listened to every word Raihan had to say.

Leon introduced the rest of his team to Raihan and Trapinch – he had a Wooloo and a Grubbin – and while the Pokémon played together, their Trainers ate a late lunch. Raihan only had some bread he had nicked from the pantry, so he gladly accepted the canned food Leon shared with him. And all the while they talked, about the battle and Pokémon in general and the Challenge.

“Are you camping out tonight?” Leon asked after the Pokémon had tired themselves out and Charmander was dozing on his lap. He glanced at Raihan’s shoulder bag and must have realized that he was traveling way too light to be able to do so, so he added, “Or staying at the hotel?”

Raihan shook his head. “Nah, I live… close by.”

In truth, the tiny town on the eastern coast was an hour and a half’s walk away. Well, the walk back usually took longer. He took his time.

He took his flip phone out of his pocket and glanced at the clock. It was later than he had expected. “I should get going, actually.” The depth of the disappointment that washed over him took him by surprise. He could hardly remember the last time he had had so much fun with someone. He was even more unwilling to leave the lake than usual.

Leon’s face fell. “Oh. Okay.” His lips curved up again almost immediately. “I’ll see you at the opening ceremony, then!”

“Okay,” Raihan replied dismissively and got to his feet. He didn’t get his hopes up. There would be hundreds of people at the ceremony.

“I’ll seek you out!”

Raihan hid an incredulous bark of laughter behind his hand. “Okay.” Leon sure sounded determined. Did he really mean it? If he always lied as badly as he had after asking for directions, then…

Leon was quiet while he watched Raihan pick up his bag and place Trapinch in his hood. When he spoke up, he sounded just as determined as before. “Raihan, do you want to be my - -”

“Rival?” Raihan completed the sentence and shot Leon a flat look over his shoulder. “It’s not something you ask about. It just happens.”

To his surprise, his words earned a heartfelt peal of laughter from Leon. “I was going to say ‘my friend,’ but we can be both if that’s what you want. They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.” The grin that bloomed on Leon’s face was, for the lack of a better word, smug. “And I guess your statement holds true either way.”

“Oh.” Raihan chewed his lower lip and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Uh. Y-yeah, sure.”

“In that case, I _will_ find you,” Leon yelled after him, his smile audible in his voice. “Mark my words!”

\- - -

**[1-0]**

And Leon _did_ seek him out. Just like he had said he would.

Un-fucking-believable.

\- - -

**[4-0]**

They had begun journeying together by a silent, mutual agreement. Leon had simply tagged along and Raihan had let him. Sometimes things were just that simple.

And while they traveled during the day and set up camp in the evening, they talked, about anything and everything. Or, well, not about _everything_ in Raihan’s case, but still. Leon, on the other hand, could have babbled about his home and family and friends and school for hours on end – it more than made up for Raihan’s silence on such subjects. And Raihan liked to listen to him talk. He was always so enthusiastic about everything and loved answering questions.

All in all, it was comfortable, their companionship. Despite knowing that it would all end eventually, Raihan wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

It was the fifth day of the Challenge, and Raihan had just finished making dinner. He carefully set a bowl of food in front of Charmander and straightened up. “Where’d you get him?”

Leon scooped some of the stew in another bowl and passed it and a spoon to Raihan. “From Professor Magnolia,” he replied easily.

Raihan almost dropped the things Leon had just given him. “Really?”

“She’s a family friend,” Leon explained and sat down with his own dinner. “Her lab is in my hometown. Or, well, the bigger town right next to it. I don’t know if Postwick even qualifies as a town… Anyway. My friend Sonia, who I told you about earlier, is her granddaughter. When I got my letter of endorsement, she begged her grandmother for one, too.” He put a spoonful of stew in his mouth and chewed for a moment, deep in thought. “She was supposed to travel with me,” he continued after swallowing, “but she decided that she wanted to be my rival instead. And she’s of the belief that rivals aren’t supposed to travel together. A bit old-fashioned, if you ask me.” He directed a knowing, cheeky smile at Raihan.

Raihan couldn’t help but laugh. “It sure is.”

\- - -

**[14-0]**

It had taken them longer to reach Turffield than Raihan had expected. He really shouldn’t have let Leon lead the way – he was even more hopeless with directions than Raihan had realized. At least they had been having a practice match or two every day, so they had both been well prepared for the Gym.

They had set up camp just outside city limits. Leon was enthusiastically talking on the phone with his mom and little brother while Raihan got started on dinner. Once there was nothing left to do but wait for the ingredients to cook before adding the roux, he took out his Grass Badge. One down, seven to go, he mused as he held it high and rotated it in his hand, letting the bright sunlight play on its surface. But then he noticed that dark gray clouds were forming on the horizon. Figures.

“I think it’s gonna rain soon,” Raihan noted once Leon had finally ended his call and joined him by the cookfire. He put his Badge back in his pocket and sighed. If he hadn’t decided to make curry, they would be eating already. You had to let the dish simmer for a long time. Now there was a risk of them getting soaked and their dinner getting ruined. “I wish I had a Pokémon that knew Sunny Day…”

Leon sat down next to him. “Trapinch _and_ Charmander could learn it if we had the TM - -”

“But we don’t,” Raihan pointed out gruffly.

“Yeah.” Leon looked contemplative. “If I get my hands on one, I’ll give it to you.”

Raihan let out an involuntary, incredulous snort. “Oh yeah?”

“You already fight like a force of nature. Fierce, unpredictable, nearly unstoppable. So why not use them to your advantage in battle as well?”

“…By ‘them’, you mean weather effects?”

“Yeah!” Leon exclaimed. “I think using them would suit you. And bring some much-needed structure to your battle style. It’s a bit all over the place right now.” He expressed his critique the way he always did when they talked about battling; without mincing his words and with a sincere desire to help. And, of course, with a kind smile on his lips. “You should at the very least try it.”

Raihan propped his chin in his hands. That’s a thought. He’d consider it. “Maybe. At some point.”

“It would work better with more Pokémon on your team, anyhow,” Leon agreed.

After a while, Raihan rose to stir the curry. “How come some Pokémon can alter the weather, anyway?” he asked. “Isn’t that… I dunno, weird?”

“It’s all about microclimates, Rai! Microclimates!” Leon replied cheerily and then paused for a moment. “Is it okay if I call you Rai?”

Raihan shrugged, feigning indifference. “Sure.” It was just a simple shortening of his name. It wasn’t a big deal.

But… He could scarcely keep himself from grinning stupidly. He had never had a nickname before. Even _she_ had always called him Raihan.

Leon, however, was smiling widely. “In that case, you can call me Lee! Anyway. Microclimates! Do you know what those are, Rai?”

Raihan didn’t, so Leon spent the next thirty minutes or so happily explaining the phenomenon and overviewing the practical implementations of weather manipulation outside of Pokémon battles and illustrating its significance in certain battle strategies and highlighting the importance of synergy when putting together a weather team and answering all of Raihan’s questions on the matter.

They got inside the tent with their dinner just in time to avoid getting rained on.

\- - -

**[27-0]**

They had gotten back to Motostoke for the third Gym but decided to train in the Wild Area first. Battle number twenty-seven had also ended in Leon’s victory, and they were talking about the match while Raihan cooked.

“You can’t win by pure force or strength alone,” Leon said as he sprayed Burn Heal on Raihan’s Roggenrola. “We both have full teams now, you know. You need a strategy, now more than ever. But more importantly, you should study your opponent. How you perceive your opponent is crucial. You have to strive for the most comprehensive, objective view possible. Then you can adjust your core strategy and make your decisions based on that knowledge. That’s what Mustard taught me.”

Raihan stared at Leon with his mouth agape. “Mustard? You mean the former Champion, current owner of the Master Dojo? _That_ Mustard? You’ve trained on the Isle?”

Leon looked aside and didn’t reply.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Raihan snapped.

“Because it’s embarrassing.”

“What is?”

“The training. I… I failed to complete it.” Leon pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. “I was doing really well up until the last trial. But… Well. It was too much for me and my poor sense of direction, I suppose. But the Chairman happened to be visiting the Isle and saw promise in me, so at least I got my letter of endorsement out of it.” He gave Roggenrola a few pats before the Pokémon ran off to play with the others Leon had already tended to.

Raihan mulled over the words for a moment. “Wait. You mean you got endorsed by the League Chairman himself?!”

Leon lifted his eyes. “I… Yeah. I did.” His smile was abashed, but there was a little spark of pride in his eyes.

Raihan let out a low whistle. Wow. Friends with the professor, a former student at the Dojo, and now this? Leon really was something else.

“What about yours?” Leon suddenly asked.

“My what?”

“Your endorsement. How’d you get it?”

Raihan cleared his throat and fell silent for a while. “It’s treated like a scholarship at the school I went to. Do well enough and you may get one at the end of your last year. Set a good example, keep your grades up, stuff like that.” He focused on stirring the soup he was making for dinner to keep his hands from shaking. He more felt than saw Leon looking at him expectantly. “I wanted to be a Trainer, so I worked really hard to get it, and…” He faltered. “It should have gone to a classmate. She always had the best grades, got along with everyone…”

Even him. She had always been one of the popular kids. There had been no rational reason for her to befriend someone like him in the first place. He should have realized it sooner.

On the last day of school, wearing her white dress and red Mary Janes, it had been clear as day that she was pretty enough to be a model once she grew up. He remembered how she had had her own letter casually under her arm as she had approached the swing set. He had clutched his own envelope so tight that the nice, pearlescent paper had crinkled in his two-handed grip.

He remembered the words she had so gracefully offered him _. It’s exciting, isn’t it? We get to journey around the region, meet new people, catch Pokémon, see and experience so many things… And maybe even compete in the Championship Cup! You’ll surely make it there. You’ve always been so determined and hardworking._ When he hadn’t replied, she had continued, _I don’t want to move away and leave on bad terms, you know. So, if you want, we could meet up after the opening ceremony and travel together. Lately, you’ve been…_ She had paused, seeking the right word. _Distant. I’d like to hang out again._

By ‘lately,’ she had meant for a year.

And by ‘distant,’ she had meant he had been actively ignoring her.

He remembered how she had tried to make him believe her soddy excuses, that _she_ hadn’t talked behind his back, that _she_ didn’t think the way his other so-called friends did, that _she_ was sorry on their behalf as well. But he didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t want to know. It was easier that way.

He remembered how he had had to tersely tell her to shut up just to get a word in edgeways. The words which had tumbled from his mouth had been met with a stunned silence. _You’re not sorry. Don’t lie to me. I know how it is. How it has always been. You don’t need to pretend anymore. You should just leave me alone. I don’t need your pity._

He remembered the metallic sound of the swing’s chains rattling against each other when he had shot to his feet. She had shouted after him, but he hadn’t looked back nor stopped running until his bedroom door was firmly shut against his back. Only then and there, when no one could see, he had let his legs fold under him and the tears fall like rain.

He had sworn that those tears would be the last ones he ever shed.

He hadn’t really deserved the letter. There was no way he had caught up to her. Maybe he really had cheated somehow, like the others had whispered, without realizing it.

The present flooded back with the sound of Leon’s voice. “So, she’s not participating?”

Raihan gave his head a little shake to clear his mind. “Nah, she is. She also got a letter, of course. Sometimes they hand out several.”

(Now that he thought about it, at least two letters had been given out each year at the end-of-school ceremony. This year had been no exception. Well, no matter. It was an irrelevant detail.)

He wasn’t sure why he was telling Leon any of this, but he still went on. “I caught a glimpse of her at the opening ceremony.”

She had noticed him in the crowd and waved, all smiles. He had deliberately turned his eyes away. It was too late now. They had already reached the end of their road.

In the ensuing silence, Leon sat with his brows creased, deep in thought, as if he was filling the gaps between Raihan’s words. “Would you rather have traveled with her?” he ventured at length, sounding uncertain.

“The food’s done,” Raihan announced and dodged the question. Leon sure was full of them today. Maybe it was part of his whole ‘study your opponent’ shtick.

Their eyes met when Raihan filled Leon’s bowl. Leon was suddenly looking so diffident and delicate that Raihan couldn’t take it. He shoved the bowl in Leon’s hands. “I… I prefer this,” he mumbled and quickly added, “You need someone to keep your sorry ass from getting lost, after all.”

Leon visibly relaxed. “I appreciate it,” he smiled.

\- --

**[33-0]**

Leon always shared his insights with Raihan after every single battle, and Raihan had been giving much thought to every piece of his advice. He had been considering his team set-up, experimenting with various move combinations and tactics, striving to use the prevailing weather conditions and terrain to his advantage wherever he battled. So as soon as Trapinch learned Sandstorm, something just clicked. His strategy was taking shape, and it felt right. Fitting. It had potential.

He was writing about it and their day’s journey in his journal under the flashlight Leon had hung down from the ceiling of their tent. He flipped back the pages to find the list of potential Pokémon to add to his team Leon had helped him compile. Instead, an entry from a week ago caught his eye.

‘Study you opponent,’ huh…

“Lee?”

“Mm?” Leon was lying on his sleeping bag next to him, reading a book. It was one of the novels Raihan had taken along for the journey, the first volume of his favorite historical fantasy series.

“What have you figured out about me?” Raihan regretted asking the question almost immediately, but he couldn’t take the words back anymore.

Leon looked up from the book and smiled. “Let’s see… You’re assertive and intense but you lose your cool easily. And that’s when you make mistakes in battle. A bit unpredictable and blunt. Very capable but also insecure about yourself and your abilities. Reserved. You have a tough exterior, but on the inside - -”

“Ouch,” Raihan grimaced, cutting Leon off. “That’s a bit too spot-on coming from someone who has known me for a month.” He tried to laugh it off, but it sounded forced. Because it was.

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “I guess I’m just good at reading people. I’ve found that being perceptive is a very useful skill to have even outside of battle.”

Raihan sighed. Was there anything Leon wasn’t good at?

And, more importantly, if he had figured all that out already… Why had he stuck around?

Nobody in their right mind would want to be friends with the kind of person he had just described, right?

\- - -

**[42-0]**

High summer was upon them, and with the fourth Gym down, they were halfway through the Challenge.

They had been training in the North Wild Area for a couple of days now and decided to take a day off. It was too swelteringly hot for traveling, anyway. Even a dip in the Lake of Outrage didn’t help with the heat, but sitting neck-deep in the slightly-cooler-than-air water was better than nothing. Raihan splashed some water on his face and ran his hands through his hair. Hopefully the temperature would drop later in the evening.

“Rai, I think you’re great.”

Leon’s sudden declaration caught Raihan so off guard that he began to laugh. “Is that an objective observation or your subjective opinion?” he managed to ask once he had calmed down.

Leon beamed at him from the rock he was sitting on, dangling his feet in the water. “Both, of course.”

Raihan splashed some water at Leon, eliciting a shriek and a peal of laughter from the other boy.

Great? Yeah, right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clenches fist* friendship.........


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again, here’s chapter two!
> 
> i'm _pretty sure_ this fic will have eight chapters. we'll see what happens, though. i’m trying my best not to add even more things to the outline lol

**[50-0]**

Here’s one thing Raihan had figured out about Leon: he was the type of person who didn’t believe in wins and losses. Every battle, despite its outcome, was an opportunity to learn something new, grow stronger, improve oneself and, most importantly, have fun. That’s his philosophy.

It was a good mentality to have; even Raihan understood that much. With an attitude like that, Leon would certainly go places.

But maybe your circumstances shaped your way of thinking, Raihan mused. Maybe when all you ever experienced was one thing, you gradually got used to it. And maybe once you had gotten used to something, it slowly became a part of who you are. In Leon’s case, that one thing was victory and success, and that’s why he was able to be the way he was and think the way he thought.

As for Raihan… Well.

He heaved a sigh and tried for a smile as he shook Leon’s hand after yet another battle. “Congrats. That was your fiftieth win in a row.”

Leon’s eyes widened in surprise. “It was? You’ve been keeping count?”

Raihan merely shrugged and released Leon’s hand.

. . .

That evening, after they had set up camp on a clearing in the woods, Leon was uncharacteristically quiet, lost in thought.

\- - -

**[50-0]**

Their fifty-first battle hadn’t gone on for even two minutes when Raihan noticed that something was off.

“Lee?”

Leon flinched. “W-what?”

Suspicious. Raihan scowled. “Are you losing on purpose?”

“I’m _not_!” Leon’s reply came way too quick and with way too much emphasis on the negation, and that’s how Raihan knew he was lying. He really was a terrible liar. Unlike with most people, it was easy to tell when Leon was hiding something.

“ _Cut the crap!_ ” Raihan shouted, making even the Pokémon currently on the pitch jump. “Don’t lie to me! I see what you’re doing, and it’s bloody disrespectful! It isn’t fair toward me nor your Pokémon! What are you trying to accomplish with this?!”

Leon cowered at his words and hid his face behind his snapback.

But Raihan wasn’t done. Torn between fear and anger, he continued, “I can’t get better and stronger if my rival is slacking off! Don’t hold back with me! Do you want me to beat the next Gym and continue the Challenge with you or not?”

It made Leon start and drop his hat. “Of course I want you to!” he exclaimed, aghast.

“In that case…” Raihan rummaged through his bag and tossed Leon a few Potions. “Use these, and let’s do this properly! Give it everything you’ve got!”

. . .

**[51-0]**

Raihan spoke through gritted teeth as he stomped his way to Leon. “Don’t you dare try anything like that ever again.”

“But - -”

“You shouldn’t go easy on me. I can take it.” He hated that he had to fight to keep his voice steady.

Leon hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, wringing his hands.

Raihan inhaled deeply and let his frustration flow out with the exhale. He knew that Leon meant it. His incapability to lie convincingly was oddly comforting now. “It isn’t any fun to battle an opponent who doesn’t put their whole heart into the fight,” he said in a conciliatory tone and shook grains of sand off his clothes. “So promise me, Lee.” He waited until Leon met his eyes before he extended a hand toward him and continued, “Promise that you’ll always go all out. No half-assing from now on, okay?”

Promise me, Raihan pleaded silently. Promise that you won’t take pity on me ever again. Promise that you won’t pretend to be anything you’re not.

Please tell me that I wasn’t wrong to think that you could be different.

Leon stood still for a long moment and then squared his shoulders. “Okay.” He clasped Raihan’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “I promise!”

“That’s more like it. And I promise to be a worthy opponent to you as well.”

Raihan grimaced inwardly as they resumed their journey through the forest. Such big, bold words.

But he would try his best. Leon deserved it.

\- - -

**[68-0]**

Here’s one thing Raihan had figured out about himself: he didn’t have a problem with losing to Leon, not really. Leon was always such a good sport about it. He never looked down on anyone or rubbed his wins in anyone’s face or failed to compliment every opponent as he shook hands with them after a match. Never condescending, always helpful and humble – that’s Leon.

And when it came to his battles against Raihan, Leon’s post-match breakdowns were extremely detailed. It was almost scary how accurately and vividly he could remember the course of every battle. Raihan mused over the most recent conversation they had had while he washed their dishes after dinner. Leon always emphasized how close each match had been. He pointed out not only Raihan’s oversights but also every last thing where he had succeeded. And while Leon took rightful pride in his own accomplishments, he never tried to cover up his mistakes. He was so open and honest about everything.

Raihan had to admit that it was refreshing. And motivating.

Maybe some of Leon’s mentality was rubbing off on him, too.

(Maybe it was only verifying what he already knew.)

And battling with Leon was exhilarating beyond words. Whenever they took their places across each other on their makeshift battlefield, standing perfectly still for the duration of a few heartbeats, holding each other’s gazes, it was unlike anything Raihan had ever known. Anticipation filled the air like electricity, sending sparks up his spine and making his skin tingle pleasantly, and it was as if the universe itself was holding its breath. And as Leon flashed him a resolute smile and they released their first Pokémon in perfect unison, the outside world fell away completely and he got lost in the moment, in the thrill of battle and the pure excitement of it all. Every single time he was eager to see how things would play out this time around, what new trick Leon would use to surprise him, and with which unexpected move he would manage to momentarily throw Leon off balance; and each attack his Pokémon landed and dodged was a step toward improvement, each of Leon’s approving nods and surprised gasps a small victory all on its own.

It never felt quite the same with anyone else, so the sting of loss that came after was always short-lived and greatly outweighed by… Well, everything else, really.

Besides, Raihan had managed to beat every Trainer he had challenged or gotten challenged by up until now, including the six Gym Leaders he had faced thus far. He had kicked everyone’s asses. Except Leon’s.

Leon just was like that. He was on a completely different level. It would have been so easy to think it was nothing but raw, natural talent, but it wasn’t. It was deeply rooted in hard work, self-discipline, determination.

“We’re the same, aren’t we, Rai?” Leon abruptly asked, breaking Raihan’s train of thought. He was poking their campfire with a long stick and sending sparks floating up toward the dimming sky.

Raihan shot Leon a sideways glance and rolled his eyes. Wouldn’t it be nice if that was the case.

But then he found himself nodding. Maybe it was true. Kind of. To some extent.

\- - -

****[83-0]** **

Twice before had they walked through the city, on their way to Route 6 and Route 7. Raihan’s heart had ached both times he had had to leave it behind so soon. But now, finally, he and Leon were there for real, and he could scarcely contain his excitement.

The majestic castle in the heart of the city with its drawbridges and moats and tall towers was, of course, the first thing Raihan had wanted to see once they had gotten a cheap room at a hotel near the train station and checked in. To think that he would be battling there soon! He had gotten this far. He had gotten _here_ , to Hammerlocke City.

The city was incredible, even more so than he had imagined when he had sat in history classes or in his room, engrossed in a book. Every brick of the castle walls fortifying the city, every cobblestone of the main street, every dragon statue keeping guard atop the towers, every narrow and winding back alley – everywhere he could hear the whispers of history, sense the layers of change.

Then there was the hustle and bustle of urban life, everchanging, like the city itself was alive and breathing. One could easily step into the crowd and disappear without a trace, cease to exist as an individual. Or one could deliberately stand out, either in a good or a bad way, and it wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Here, he was nothing but a single drop of blood in the city’s veins, a part of something bigger yet still retaining near-perfect anonymity.

This is what he had craved for. This is where he wanted to return some day and stay, preferably forever. Three days was nowhere near enough for him.

Leon hadn’t been nearly as ecstatic, but he had gladly accompanied Raihan and explored every nook and cranny of the city center with him. There were two types of small-town people, Raihan had surmised, and he and Leon were on the very opposite ends of that spectrum. He had noticed that Leon got even more disoriented than usual in cities, but the air of uneasiness hanging about him seemed to disperse if he stayed close to Raihan and kept a grip on the hem of his shirt. Well, they hadn’t gotten lost ever since Raihan had become their designated map-reader after the first Gym. It made sense.

On their first day in the city, they had gone to check out the Vault, too, but only from the outside. It had been closed to the public that day, so they would be going back today. From what Raihan had heard and read, Hammerlocke Vault was epic beyond measure – not only did it hold an extensive collection of historical artifacts but also a vast library of rare books and manuscripts.

They were back in their hotel room again after another, though a much shorter tour and an early lunch. They had some time to kill before the Vault opened, so they might as well use it productively. Raihan was sitting on the edge of the bed, writing in his journal, and next to him, Leon was focused on fixing his Poké Ball belt.

The comfortable silence that had fallen over them was broken by the sound of Leon’s cellphone.

“It’s a text from Sonia!” Leon announced. “She asks if we’ve gotten to Hammerlocke yet and if we could meet up. She’s been travelling together with someone and they just got here.” He glanced at Raihan. “They could both tag along with us to the Vault. How’s that sound?”

Raihan made a sound of assent and Leon began composing a reply. They had run into Sonia a few times on the road. She and Leon were such close friends, though, that Raihan couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel. Maybe if Sonia had someone else to hang out with, he wouldn’t feel quite as awkward as he had those times.

Truth be told, he could see himself getting along with Sonia. From what he had gleaned, she was also interested in books and history. Plus, she couldn’t be half bad since Leon liked her, and Leon was a good judge of character.

After a while, Leon’s cell beeped again. “Ah, she replied.” Leon was quiet for a moment while he read the text. Then, nodding to himself, he rose to his feet. “Are you ready to go?” he asked and lightly tapped Raihan on the shoulder. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting. Sonia wrote that she and Nessa are already in that part of the city.”

Hearing the name was like inhaling a lungful of saltwater, and Raihan forgot how to breathe.

He remained seated while Leon went to put his shoes on.

“Rai?”

Raihan flinched. “Actually, I… I’m not coming.”

“…Huh?”

“You can go with them.” Raihan kept his back to Leon and spoke the words with feigned poise. “I’m gonna go to the Wild Area. To train. I have to teach Sunny Day to Turtonator since you got me the TM.” He knew it was a lame excuse, but it was the best he could manage right then.

“But why? Can’t it wait till we get back?” Leon protested. “Besides, I think it would be better to hold off till we’re done with the Gym, that way you’d have more time to practice and integrate the move into - -”

“Lee, please,” Raihan interrupted tersely. “Just go.”

His words were met with a stunned silence.

“If that’s what you really want,” Leon yielded at length.

The door opened and closed and then Raihan was alone again.

He let his journal fall to the floor and fell over sideways on the bed.

Leon would have more fun without him, anyway. Sonia was his childhood friend after all, his best friend. What were a couple measly summer months compared to a lifetime spent together? What need did Leon have for him? Why would _anyone_ need him? It had been stupid to even think otherwise. Of course it would go like this. And Leon would get along splendidly with Nessa, even if she hadn’t been the type of person who got along with everybody. Leon was just like her in that regard. And Leon, being the blabbermouth he was, doubtless would mention him and then Nessa would tell Leon everything and then - -

Shut up, Raihan told himself. Shut up. Shut _up_ \- -

(He pretended that the sound of his useless tears hitting the pillow was the rain.)

. . .

Raihan heard the hotel room door close with a click and then Leon’s cheerful voice. “I’m back!”

He should have replied with some kind of greeting, but he didn’t.

Leon made his way to him. “Here,” he said, placing a takeout box and plastic utensils on Raihan’s lap. “Eat before it gets cold.”

Raihan wasn’t hungry. Teaching the move had taken longer than it had any right to, so he had grabbed a snack on his way back from the Wild Area. His stomach had churned, so forcing even a sandwich down had been a struggle. He opened the box anyway. “So, did you have fun?” he asked lamely.

“Yeah!”

Of course he had.

Leon sat down next to him on the edge of the bed and told him about his day in between taking bites of his own dinner. Raihan only half listened.

“You would’ve liked it,” Leon concluded his account. Seemingly puzzled by Raihan’s silence, he warily continued, “Maybe we could go there again sometime, just the two of us?”

Raihan didn’t reply.

“It would’ve been more fun if you had been there, too, you know.”

Raihan didn’t reply.

“And they were both really looking forward to seeing you. Especially Nessa.”

Raihan didn’t reply.

“She told me that you two - -”

“I don’t want to know what she said,” Raihan snapped.

“But - -”

“Just. Drop the subject.”

Leon did as he was told. A moment later, however, he picked up a different subject. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not.”

“You _are_. You’ve almost snapped your fork in half - -”

“Everything’s just fine. Peachy.” Raihan stabbed a dumpling with his fork, using way more force than was necessary. “Can we _please_ talk about something else?”

“Rai - -”

Raihan recoiled when Leon tried to reach for his hand. “Or nothing at all? That would be even better, actually.”

Leon fell silent for a long while. “I see,” he eventually relented, barely audible. “Let’s do this your way, then. If that’s what you want.” He stood up and moved to sit on his side of the bed.

Raihan let him go.

Leon’s voice didn’t waver when he spoke up again. “I will never force you, but if you ever wanna talk, about anything… I’m here. Always. I’m not going anywhere.” After several long moments, he broke the silence one last time. “I’ll be waiting.”

\- - -

********[93-0]** ** ** **

Leon kept his word. Not only had he not brought up the subject again, but he had also stayed.

Raihan was grateful for it. It was more than he deserved.

At the same time, it was as if a part of him wanted Leon to pressure him, crack him open.

But Leon didn’t. For better or for worse, he wasn’t like that. Observing from the outside, reading between the lines, trusting his own instincts – that seemed to be more of his thing.

Come to think of it, he had probably pieced something together already.

Raihan wished he hadn’t. It was none of his concern.

\- - -

********[94-0]** ** ** **

According to the commentators, the semifinal match between him and Leon had been the closest one in Galar League history. Raihan found it hard to believe.

The final match between Leon and the reigning Champion, however, had been a spectacle unlike any other. Raihan had sat in the front row and had his heart in his mouth the entire time, growing more and more certain of the outcome of the match with every passing moment. And he had been right. Perhaps he had also been the only one who hadn’t been surprised in the slightest.

Crowning a new Champion was, naturally, a big deal, and Leon had been swarmed by the media right away. Raihan had watched him get interviewed on the pitch for a long while before slinking back into the now-empty locker room. Leon deserved the win and all the good things it entailed, and there was no room for anything but happiness for his friend in Raihan’s heart.

He had to wait for quite some time, but finally he heard a familiar, surprised voice.

“Rai! You’re still here!”

Raihan lifted his gaze from the book he was reading and grinned at Leon who had just stepped in the locker room. “Good to know your eyes still work.”

Leon returned the smile with a flash of something not unlike relief in his eyes and closed the door behind him. He took his hand from behind his back and showed Raihan a giant paper bag with a luxury boutique’s logo on it. “They told me to freshen up before the next round on interviews and choose something… less battle-damaged to wear.”

“Ooh, let me see!”

Leon handed the bag over. Raihan peeked inside and whistled, impressed. Even with a tasteful brand-name selection like this, he was absolutely certain that Leon, if left to his own devices, would somehow manage to put together an outfit that was anything but sensible. “Want some help?” he asked.

“Yes, _please_.”

A brief silence fell as Raihan went through the clothes and Leon washed his hands and face in the sink.

“So,” Raihan began and looked over his shoulder at Leon once he had made his selection. “How does it feel to be the youngest Champion in the history of Galar?”

“Only barely,” Leon replied offhandedly. He was frowning at his reflection in the mirror as he combed his fingers through his unruly and poofy hair, dandelion fluff in all but color, in a desperate attempt to make it look less unruly and poofy and dandelion fluff-y. “The youngest before me was eleven, and my birthday is next week.”

“You would’ve been the youngest regardless, dummy. That’s how ages work. Months and weeks and days matter too, not just years.”

Leon gave a small shrug as if to say, “I suppose.”

Raihan would have been the youngest, too. He had looked it up: he was exactly nine days younger than the former youngest Champion had been. Such a small difference. Well, it didn’t matter now, anyhow.

Seemingly giving up on his hair, Leon picked up his snapback from the edge of the sink, dusted it off and put it back on. After giving a satisfactory nod at the mirror, he turned back toward Raihan. “To answer your question, I’m overwhelmed. Happy, too. But mostly nervous. It’s weird to think that people are going to look up to me now.”

“You’ll do great,” Raihan assured him. “You’re you, after all.”

Leon let out a surprised guffaw. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He took the clothes Raihan had chosen and gave a satisfactory nod at them as well.

Raihan turned his back to Leon while the other changed. “Anyway! We should celebrate! Both your birthday and your new title! I could come visit you in Postwick. It’s not super far away.” And once Flygon grew a bit more and got used to his final form, traveling in general would be much easier.

“I wonder if I’ll have time…” Leon sighed. “They said I have to stay here for a while to get things sorted out and learn the ropes. I have to be absent from school, too…”

Ah. So they wouldn’t be taking the train back south together. Raihan’s heart sank.

Before long, Leon had gotten dressed and seated himself on the bench right next to Raihan. “I just hope that this doesn’t come between us,” he said nervously.

“It won’t, dumbass,” Raihan scoffed and unceremoniously shoved a Soda Pop, Leon’s favorite, in the newly crowned Champion’s hands. How Leon could stand drinking such sugary garbage was something Raihan would never understand. He opened the cap of his own water bottle with his teeth before continuing, “I won’t stop liking you just because you’re the Champion now, or for any other reason.”

Leon had paused mid-sip. “You won’t? You like me that much? I - -”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Raihan spluttered and just barely managed to keep himself from drowning on dry land. “As a friend! As a _friend_! Don’t make this weird!”

If someone was making this weird, it was definitely Raihan. Leon was staring at him blankly, as if “as a friend” was the only way you could like someone. Raihan bit his tongue and averted his gaze before he felt compelled to keep spouting even more stupid shit. As always, he had made a complete fool of himself.

The Gym Challenge was meant to be his chance to reinvent himself, put the past behind him and start fresh. But one cannot change one’s own nature so easily, he supposed. Everyone had been right all along. He was and would remain an inherently unlikable and unlovable loser. Disruptive, obnoxious, foul-mouthed, rude, overbearing, short-tempered. Annoying.

He was sure Leon secretly hated him, too. Just like everyone else did.

Leon shifted on his seat. “I like you too, Rai. I’m so happy that you’re my friend.” He pulled his legs up and hugged his knees. “It’s just… Many people have said that I’m no fun to be around. Or, well, it’s not something they say aloud, but I can tell. I’m not that stupid.” He paused for a moment and heaved a deep sigh. “Either I bore them because I apparently have an overactive imagination and I can’t shut up about Pokémon and battling and every piece of ‘useless trivia’ I’ve memorized, or they get annoyed because I have trouble expressing myself sometimes or I ‘try too hard’ and ‘don’t give others a fair chance’. But it’s not fair if I hold back, right? You understood that. You _get_ it. And you don’t mind when I ramble. Some of the things I commit to memory may seem useless to others, but they’re all important to me. It’s so rare to find someone who is genuinely and sincerely interested in what I have to say and who likes me as I am and isn’t trying to fix or change me in some way. So… Thank you.”

Raihan stared at Leon with his mouth slightly ajar and his heart in turmoil, unsure how to respond. So he trusted his instincts and, on a complete whim, put his arms around Leon.

Despite being startled by the sudden gesture, Leon quickly returned the embrace.

“You’re great just the way you are, Lee,” Raihan mumbled to fill the silence.

“You too, Rai.” Leon hugged him a bit tighter. “Don’t let anyone ever convince you otherwise.”

Raihan made strangled noise, something between a laugh and a sob. Leon truly believed in his own words. But Raihan knew better.

And he wanted to change. Be a little more like Leon.

If only he knew how.

They didn’t draw back from the embrace until there was a knock at the door.

“Excuse me?” A stone-faced assistant poked her head in. “Mister Champion is needed for the next interview in five.”

Leon directed a smile her way. “Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

After the door had closed after the assistant, a lopsided smirk broke out on Raihan’s face. “‘ _Mister Champion_ ,’ eh?”

Leon laughed. “Please don’t call me that. I’m just Lee.” He downed his remaining Soda Pop in one swig and got up. “You’ll participate next year too, right?”

“Of course,” Raihan said and rose to his feet as well. He had been endorsed once already, and even though he hadn’t won the Cup like he had originally intended to, he had proven his skill by completing the Challenge itself – he basically had a free pass now. Sure, he had to do the Gym circuit again, but at least he didn’t have to find a way to get his hands on another letter. He doubted he could have gotten one, anyway. “You’re only borrowing my crown,” he teased and snatched Leon’s hat off his head.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the final match, then,” Leon said and smiled brilliantly. “And help you train for it in the meantime, whenever I can!”

Raihan tousled Leon’s hair before he put the cap back on his head. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said, relieved, and returned Leon’s smile.

“A crown, huh? Now there’s a thought…” Leon mumbled, mostly to himself, as he readjusted his hat. He flashed Raihan one last smile and waved enthusiastically as he went, promising to text him as soon as possible.

Raihan waved back. Even after Leon had gone, he lingered for a while longer, lost in thought.

Next year, huh…? Could he be able to make it all the way here again?

Eventually, he took a deep breath, packed his things and made it to the station just in time to catch the last train.

He fiddled with his flip phone for most of the ride, weighing it in his hands. He should make the call, let them know he was on his way back.

In the end, he texted Leon instead – and kept texting with him for the entire walk from the station.

Maybe he hadn’t reinvented himself, but he wanted to think that this – rivalry, friendship, _acceptance_ – was an even better outcome.

Perhaps this time things really would turn out differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clenches fist* FRIENDSHIP...........


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends it’s time for longer time skips (pay attention to the numbers) and more angst

**[171-0] / [1-0]**

Right after losing the final match the following year, Raihan began keeping another mental tally.

He attached Flygon’s ball to his belt and straightened his back. The sandstorm had subsided, and the blinding lights of the stadium were hitting him full force again. The roar of the audience was a pleasant buzz in his ears as he made his way to the middle of the pitch.

He was still at the center of everyone’s attention, but it was a good kind of attention. Distant, in a way. Controlled. Not overbearingly personal. He didn’t know them, and they didn’t know him. They only saw what unfolded on the pitch, and he didn’t mind showing that.

And, most importantly, he wasn’t there alone.

Leon clasped his hand and smiled like the sun as he shook it.

This is exactly where and how he wanted to be. As long as Leon was there, too. It wouldn’t have been the same without Leon, of that he was certain.

“Same time, same place next year?” Leon blithely asked.

His smile was contagious. “You bet,” Raihan promised. He would keep trying.

Leon beamed at him. “I’ll see you in the locker room after the interviews. There’s so much to talk about!”

Raihan nodded.

During this match, like during every battle they had had, he had been at the center of _Leon’s_ attention, too. But his was a different kind of attention. Completely different.

Raihan had found that, for some reason, he didn’t mind it, either.

As long as he had this, he was content.

\- - -

**[205-0] / [1-0]**

Looking back, Leon’s first year as Champion had been pretty normal. He got to live an ordinary life, aside from the weekends or sometimes entire weeks he had had to spend away from home to take care of Champion business: making public appearances, giving interviews, doing exhibition matches and so on. Whenever Leon had had the weekend off, Raihan had made the trip to Postwick for a sleepover, and sometimes he had even visited on weekdays after school if his classes had ended early. The number on his counter had kept ticking up all year – not as fast as it had on their journey when he and Leon had battled on a near-daily basis, but at a steady pace nevertheless.

Now, Leon’s second year was coming to a close, and things had drastically changed during it.

Last fall, only six weeks after successfully defending his title, Leon had moved to Wyndon. He had told Raihan that, according to the Chairman, it would make matters much less convoluted if the Champion of the region lived in the capital and was readily available.

And it was a convenient arrangement, truly. From the League’s point of view, that is.

To put it simply, having a best friend who lived on the other side of the region _sucked_. Due to the long distance, Raihan hadn’t seen Leon nearly as often as he would have liked to during this past year. He missed those days spent in the sleepy town of Postwick – the endless hours of fun and laughter, balancing on top of stone walls, snowball fights, climbing trees, getting invited to family game nights, talking for hours on end while watching the Wooloo grazing on the pastures… And the Pokémon battles, of course. Now he only had his memories and journal entries to remember those days by.

Raihan let out a long sigh, closed his planner and looked out his window into the dimming evening veiled in a fine drizzle of rain. It was strange, feeling so nostalgic about things that had happened only a little over a year ago.

It was almost summer break again, though. He would take on the Challenge once more, and Leon would be having his region-wide PR tour just like he had had the previous summer. They should have plenty of opportunities to meet up. Hopefully.

But at the very least Leon would be there, at the end of the circuit, waiting for him. That was for certain.

\- - -

**[211-0] / [2-0]**

_Let’s give it our all next time, too!_

Leon’s enthusiastic words rang in Raihan’s head for the entirety of his lonesome train ride south.

It had been his third failure in the Championship Cup. Was he not good enough or was Leon just _too_ good? Perhaps both statements were true. But he was inclined to think that the former was the more important factor in the equation.

The air in his room was stuffy and stale – he had come to associate the smell of dust with the last day of summer. He wanted nothing more than collapse on his bed and never get up. Instead, he willed himself to open the window and unpack his backpack first. Once done, he put his third full set of Gym Badges on the tiny shelf above his bed.

Maybe next time. There would always be a next time. Leon’s words had been like a promise, and Raihan had every intention of keeping his side of it.

He desperately wanted to believe that some things were meant to last.

\- - -

**[217-0] / [2-0]**

Raihan wasn’t saying that Leon was flawless. Of course he wasn’t. He had plenty of flaws.

And maybe it was mean, but Raihan had compiled a mental list of them over the past few years.

Leon was already famous for his ability to get lost and his utter lack of spatial awareness, and sometimes it seemed like he had trouble comprehending the concept of personal space as well. He got angry at video games and left the tap running while brushing his teeth. Every now and then he zoned out so completely that he didn’t even realize that he was being spoken to. His everyday fashion sense could be described as atrocious at best. He had recently developed a habit of oversleeping; he had trouble getting out of bed in the morning and would stay under the covers till noon every day if he could get away with it. His idea of cooking was putting extra Pinap berries on his takeout pizza. He bit his nails and drooled in his sleep and dog eared his books instead of using a bookmark like a sensible person would. And so on and so forth.

It’s just that… His flaws, for some bizarre reason, only made him more endearing in Raihan’s eyes. No matter how many of them he unearthed – and many of the ones he had come up with were ridiculously specific and completely harmless minutiae, anyway – they didn’t diminish Leon’s radiance.

That’s not how flaws were supposed to work, right?

Whatever the case, each of Leon’s big and small quirks made it easier to remember that he was just Lee when most of the world saw him as only the Champion.

If only Raihan could see Leon more often than or at least _as_ often as he saw the Champion. The Champion with his practiced smiles and Charizard poses and stupid catchphrases he saw on a weekly basis – online and on TV and on billboard ads – whereas he saw Leon in person once every two weeks or so.

\- - -

**[225-0] / [3-0]**

Scratch that. Once a month. If he was lucky.

And this summer they had only seen each other at the Championship match. Leon hadn’t even been sure if he would have time to go grab something to eat and keep Raihan company while he waited for the train, but he had promised to let him know as soon as possible.

But once hours had passed and there had been no sight of Leon, Raihan got tired of waiting. So what if he wouldn’t be getting Leon’s usual post-match pointers this time? He didn’t need them, anyway! The workaholic Champion could keep his stupid tips for all he cared!

And so, without looking back, Raihan stormed out of the near-empty stadium and into the pouring rain.

He was not only still seething but also completely drenched by the time he got to the train station. He weaved his way through the crowd and eventually found an empty bench to sit on. Slumping against the backrest, he glanced up and startled when he found Leon smiling down at him.

From a wall-sized Gym Challenge poster.

Raihan quickly lowered his eyes and silently watched the puddle of rainwater pooling around his feet.

Slowly, slowly, his anger ebbed out of him and was replaced with a dull sense of resignation.

The last train to Meetup Spot arrived at the station and before long the sound of its whistle echoed though the building. Only then did Raihan get up from the bench, take out the Soda Pop he had stuffed in his pocket and throw it into the trash. He turned his back to the billboard and got on the train just as it was about to leave.

\- - -

**[228-0] / [3-0]**

A vague yet familiar feeling was still sitting tightly somewhere behind his ribcage. For a while he had foolishly thought that it was gone for good.

Raihan didn’t want to admit that he was lonely, but he was. It made no sense. It wasn’t like he was _alone_ ; he had his Pokémon, his classmates at his current school were all right for the most part, and Leon was only a phone call away.

So why…?

He knew why. It was all because of Leon.

Their face-to-face meetings had been few and far between for some time, but nowadays even more so. Calls and texts and online communication helped, but only so much. As stupid as it sounded, he wanted to _be_ with Leon, exist in the same physical space, breathe the same air. He wanted to get hugged by him and watch him play some convoluted tactical RPG and relentlessly tease him while they mock-argued about frivolous things. He wanted to hear his voice and easy laughter and awful jokes without them being muddled by distance and crappy phone speakers.

For a while after Leon’s move, Raihan had dropped by in Postwick whenever Leon had been visiting his family. Leon had such a nice family: a caring mother and doting grandparents and an overzealous little brother who were constantly showering him with love, the amount of which had seemingly only increased now that Leon wasn’t living at home anymore. During one of his visits, Raihan had asked Leon about his father in a fit of curiosity. Leon had smiled sadly and told him that he barely remembered his dad anymore; he had bugged off before Hop was born, and his mother and grandparents didn’t talk about him. Raihan knew he should have felt sorry for Leon, and he did, but he couldn’t help but wonder if having one less adult in his own household would have made a difference for the better. Besides, Leon had found a new father figure in Chairman Rose, so everything had worked out for him in the end.

Now, even those meetings had come to an end. Despite Leon inviting him time and again, Raihan hadn’t been to Postwick in nearly a year. Whenever he had been there, he had somehow felt like he was trespassing. The atmosphere there was so drastically different than at his own house that stepping inside always felt like being hit by a freight train. He didn’t belong there. In addition, whenever he had had Leon all to himself – when Leon’s mom was taking a well-deserved nap and his grandparents were out grocery shopping and Hop was having a playdate at the neighbors’ house – the feeling of guilt that came afterward had been nearly unbearable. After all, Leon should focus on spending time with his family, not Raihan, on the rare occasions he had the opportunity to be home.

Perhaps that was why Raihan was ever willing to travel at the drop of a hat whenever Leon had a weekend off but not enough time to take the trip south. They would either meet up at North Wild Area for camping or Raihan would make his way all the way to Wyndon. Flygon wasn’t a long-distance flyer, so Raihan took the train whenever he could, especially in fall and winter. He didn’t get along with the cold.

Now he was, once again, on his way to the capital. The train was speeding through the countryside somewhere near Motostoke when his cell rang.

It was Leon.

“Rai!” he exclaimed as soon as Raihan picked up, not bothering with a greeting. “When’s your train departing?”

“Uh, half an hour ago,” Raihan replied, puzzled. He had woken up at the crack of dawn to catch the first train to Wyndon, as per usual.

“Ah, darn it,” Leon muttered under his breath and fell silent for a moment. “Miss Oleana just called. I won’t have the weekend off after all.”

“…Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to this,” Leon continued and drew a shaky breath. “I had everything planned out and made absolutely sure that my schedule was cleared but then suddenly - -”

“It’s all right,” Raihan interrupted and did his best to sound convincing.

There was a beat of silence.

Leon sighed. “It’s not. It really isn’t.”

This time Raihan gave no reply. He looked out the window at the overcast sky and the gray scenery whizzing by.

To think that he was traveling all this way to see Leon who wouldn’t even be there waiting for him. Just an empty apartment that would have been too big for a family of four, let alone for one teenager living on his own.

But that’s just the kind of life a successful and well-loved Champion led, huh? A life of abundance and grandeur.

And that very Champion had stolen Leon from him.

Still, Leon’s agoraphobia-inducing penthouse felt more like a hotel room than a home even though he had been living there for over two years. It reeked of disuse, as if its only purpose was to provide its sole human inhabitant a place to keep the king-sized bed he slept in. It didn’t feel lived in. Now that feeling would surely be even worse as both Leon and his Pokémon would be gone; the Champion never made an appearance without his main _and_ off-teams in tow.

Raihan looked away from the window as his eyes in the reflection were starting to look pitifully misty.

(It would be raining in Wyndon.)

Leon was the one to break the tense silence. “I… Apparently, I’m also needed tomorrow. But I’ll fight tooth and nail to convince them to postpone the meetings.”

Raihan knew he wouldn’t. Leon only fought on the pitch, alongside his Pokémon. Outside of battles, he was all about compromise and being flexible and putting others first.

Then again… When it came to some things, Leon was extremely persistent and stubborn, in his peculiar careful-not-to-step-on-anyone’s-toes kind of way. And he was also patient. Maybe too patient. Was that even possible? Patience was a virtue Raihan lacked almost completely, so he couldn’t say for certain. The other sides of Leon he at least somewhat understood, maybe could even relate to.

“Did you pack the spare key?”

Leon’s abrupt question made Raihan jolt on his seat. “Yeah,” he managed to reply. He had never taken it off his keychain.

On the other end of the line, Leon let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, good. Just… Let yourself in and make yourself at home. I’ll leave my card on the living room table, so use it when you order dinner. And get something for me, too. I should be back by eight.”

“…Okay. See you then.” Raihan hated how hoarse his voice was.

“I’m so sorry, Rai.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

He ended the call before Leon had time to respond.

It wasn’t fine. It really wasn’t.

. . .

Leon got back at half past ten, dead tired, his pretty eyes runny and red-rimmed. He hugged Raihan in greeting and kept mumbling wet apologies into the front of his hoodie.

Raihan put him straight to bed after a late-night dinner. Once Leon had fallen asleep, he slipped out of the bedroom to clean the kitchen and put the rest of the curry he had made in the fridge. Now, nestled between the mineral waters and meal replacement shakes and TV dinners, there were enough leftovers to last Leon for a week.

\- - -

**[233-0] / [4-0]**

The Champion was busy and got busier after every victory.

Raihan had made sure to have more and more things to fill his time with after every loss as well, and once his fifth Challenge was done, he threw himself into work like never before. It was pitiful and unhealthy to have so much of his life revolving around Leon, anyhow.

(And as long as he kept himself busy, he wouldn’t have time to feel lonely, right?)

\- - -

**[234-0] / [4-0]**

His last year of secondary had started right after the Cup. His studies were an easy distraction; he worked hard to keep his grades up and did everything he could to earn extra credit even in subjects where didn’t particularly need it.

Some time ago, he had made a decision, and it had only solidified when his class had been presented with their post-graduation plan surveys. His guidance counselor helped him draft his Gym traineeship application and letter of motivation which he sent to select minor and major division Gyms. Being a Gym Trainer seemed like a good career choice. He anxiously needed and wanted to move somewhere else for college anyhow – if he got accepted to any traineeship program, choosing a college would be easy.

\- - -

**[235-0] / [4-0]**

He also worked part-time, accepting whatever odd jobs were available to a fifteen-year-old in the miserable backwater town he happened to live in; he wasn’t all that picky. He needed to save up if he wanted to get and stay away from there.

Come his third paycheck, though, he caved and bought a Rotom Phone that came with an unlimited data plan. Having access to the internet wherever he went felt strangely liberating, and it also enabled easier and more diverse ways of communicating with Leon. Who needed regular texts and calls when instant messaging and video calls existed?

\- - -

**[236-0] / [4-0]**

Having a smartphone also meant that he always had a camera in his back pocket. What started as an aspiration to get his money’s worth from the device soon developed into a genuine interest in photography. And if he was going to pursue this new hobby of his, he figured he should be serious about it. If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right, as they say. The photography guides he borrowed from the library assumed that their readers had access to much higher-end equipment than he did, but the rules of composition and lighting and all the tiny tricks for achieving the perfect shot held true whether the camera one used was a professional-grade SLR or a last-generation smartphone.

The next step in the chain of events was making a social media account. Taking lots of photos meant that his phone’s memory was almost always full, so posting the pictures online was a way to easily preserve them. Before he even realized, the number on his follower counter had surpassed his losses against Leon.

He noticed it one night while he was lying in bed after a long day, absentmindedly petting Goomy as he checked his feed. Why were so many people interested in his pictures? They weren’t anything special. Well, whatever. He had taken a lot of nice photos of his team in the Wild Area that day, so he might as well post something.

Ultimately, though, he decided to post a photo of a sandstorm. Something about it resonated with him.

Leon was the first one to like it.

Raihan stared at the notification for what felt like an eternity.

…Wouldn’t it have been so much nicer if, instead of seeing only the picture, Leon had been present when it had been taken?

“Idiot,” Raihan muttered and furiously wiped at his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he had directed the word at Leon or himself. Perhaps both.

He was so bloody pathetic.

\- - -

**[237-0] / [4-0]**

The final factor in his packed schedule was, of course, training with his Pokémon.

Even though most days he didn’t have time to go to the Wild Area, he never skipped a day of training. Usually his training sessions lasted late into the evening, and as a result, he got yelled at for repeatedly breaking curfew and throwing his life away with all his useless hobbies that didn’t amount to anything. Each time, he let the barrage of words in from one ear and out the other, swallowed his frustration to the best of his abilities and silently took care of his chores. Then he slunk away to his room and polished his Poké Balls and scrolled through his camera roll and tried to brush it off.

He wanted to believe that what Leon had said years ago applied here, too: they weren’t useless because they were important to him.

\- - -

**[238-0] / [4-0]**

No matter how Raihan tried to distract himself by filling his waking hours with as much activity as possible, he couldn’t get Leon out of his mind. Whenever something even relatively noteworthy happened, the first thought that popped into his mind was to tell Leon about it.

Sometimes he forced himself not to be the one to initiate a conversation – just to see if Leon would even notice, if Leon would miss him even half as terribly as he missed Leon every single day. In some distant corner of his mind, he was aware that it was an incredibly petty thing to do. Not to mention that his experiments usually ended in failure because he was so unbelievably needy that he couldn’t keep himself from contacting Leon for more than two days.

But even those two days of silence spoke volumes. Leon didn’t need him. No one did. Never had and never will.

But _he_ needed Leon. Not in the ‘I’m physically unable to live without you’ kind of way that some people seemed to depend on others; he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself and being alone didn’t bother him.

But maybe one could get used to being alone but never to loneliness, not really, even if it became a part of one’s very essence. He should have known that by now.

He pressed his palms against his closed eyes so hard that he could see stars forming, collapsing and exploding inside of his eyelids.

(Surely it was their remnants that rained down his cheeks.)

\- - -

**[239-0] / [4-0]**

When the letter came in the mail, Raihan was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. He had to reread the words three times before it finally sunk in.

Leon was the first one he told about it, of course.

_> > HAMMERLOCKE?? I knew it!!_

_> > Congratulations!!!_

_> > It’s the toughest Gym to get a traineeship to!! It has always been the last Gym in the circuit and they’re determined to keep it that way! Of course they’d choose you!!_

Raihan scoffed and typed a reply.

_> > No, Rai, really, you’re amazing!!! Don’t sell yourself short!!_

Yeah, right. Easy for Leon to say when he himself was so - -

_> > And this means you’ll specialize in dragons now, right? I think that type suits you!!_

_> > You’re both strong and fierce!!_

Raihan stared at the latest messages until the screen turned itself off. With a sigh, he slumped down in his bed and closed his eyes.

He wanted to be fierce and fearless, like a force of nature. He had to be in order to make it in this world.

But he didn’t feel particularly strong right then. It was hard to feel strong when your heart was overflowing with incessant, insatiable longing.

A minute or two later, his phone buzzed three more times in rapid succession. He finally picked it back up and checked the messages.

_> > DURALUDON!!_

_> > Steel/Dragon, immune to Sandstorm!!!_

_> > It’s perfect!!!! You should add one to your team!!_

Raihan couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Oh, that Leon. Always with the advice.

This time, though, Raihan had been one step ahead of him. In fact, he had been entertaining the idea for a while. Now was as good a time as any.

Dragons were finicky creatures, though. He could use a helping hand.

_wanna go to the lake and help me catch one?_

His thumb hovered over the send button. Nah, Leon wouldn’t have time. And Raihan didn’t need his help. He could tame a dragon by himself. He had done it before. He didn’t need anyone. He had proved it over and over again.

He didn’t want to rely on anyone but himself. The people you kept close to you were the ones who were able to deal the most damage, after all. If he didn’t care about anyone, no one could hurt him again.

But…

He had forgotten all about that. Because Leon was supposed to be different.

Maybe he wasn’t.

Raihan swallowed around the lump in his throat and deleted the message.

_< < thats the plan_

_< < but not bc u told me to_

_< < moron_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [in a tour guide voice:] and if you look straight ahead you will see two dense and dysfunctional idiots......
> 
> i haven’t been able to focus on anything these past few days because of this chapter and the brainrot it has caused, so i had to get it out of my system asap

**[240-0] / [4-0]**

“Good morning!” Leon greeted sunnily when Raihan peered into the kitchen. “And happy sweet sixteen, birthday boy!”

“Morning,” Raihan mumbled in reply, bemused.

It was the second day of his stay, and Leon had gotten up before him – which literally _never_ happened. He hadn’t closed the bedroom door all the way after him, though, so Raihan had soon been woken up by the clatter of bowls and utensils drifting in from the kitchen.

Raihan still thought that Leon’s flat was unnecessarily extravagant, but it sure was nice like this, filled with sound and life and Leon’s presence. Nevertheless, Raihan really wanted to live on his own as well, just so that he could invite Leon over for a change.

Well, soon he would be able to do just that. Just ten more weeks till the end of his last semester of secondary and the start of the Challenge, and right after the Cup he would be moving to the dorms at Hammerlocke Castle for the duration of his traineeship. He wouldn’t have to travel all way across the region anymore just to see Leon.

And then… Once he finished his traineeship in two years’ time, he would be an adult, free to do whatever he wanted with his life. No one could make him go back. Even if he didn’t wind up scoring a permanent position at the Gym, he could still stay in the city – rent some crappy pad and start job-hunting again, either for one full-time job or two to three part-time positions. There would be plenty of opportunities in a big city like Hammerlocke.

Just ten more weeks and he would be out of that dreary old house for good.

Just ten more weeks.

The anticipation filled his heart with equal amounts of hope and terror.

Now, as he rested his elbows on the kitchen isle and his chin in his hands, Raihan could feel his heart swelling with some other emotion he couldn’t name.

He was watching from the sidelines as Leon cooked with his hair up in a high ponytail and a determined glint in his eyes. When Raihan had tried to take the spatula out of his hands, Leon had just laughed brightly and given his shoulder a playful shove. “It’s your birthday! Let me handle this!” is what he had said and then turned back toward the stove, humming some cheerful melody to himself. So stubborn.

So Raihan just watched, almost as if entranced, not snapping out of his peculiar reverie until Leon asked him to feed their Pokémon while he waited.

In the end, Leon burned the omelet _and_ the pancakes _and_ the toast, but Raihan didn’t mind. Leon may be hopeless in the kitchen – despite Raihan’s best efforts at teaching him – but it didn’t make him any less perfect.

Only five minutes after they had finished their breakfast, Leon was ready to head out. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing his knees, while he waited for Raihan to get ready.

Raihan couldn’t help scowling to himself. Leon could wear absolutely anything and just plop on a hat to hide his bedhead and undyed roots – the shade of purple he had adopted six months ago without any forewarning whatsoever sure looked nice on him, though – and look effortlessly gorgeous even if he never bothered to conceal the small pimples on his cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes when he was off the clock. Raihan, on the other hand, felt like he wasn’t even a person if he wasn’t sporting a carefully coordinated outfit or if he had skipped even one part of his recently adopted five-step skincare routine the night before.

And the times Leon _did_ put any conscious thought into his appearance – with or without a mob of stylists and make-up artists backing him up – for official League matches or public appearances or magazine photoshoots or pretty much whenever he donned his Champion persona… Well, it was just totally unfair.

. . .

Thankfully modern photo manipulation technology was a thing that existed, Raihan mused a few hours later, sitting at the table furthest from the window in the tiny café Leon had asked him to lead them to. While Leon was placing their order at the counter, Raihan looked through the newest additions to his camera roll, trying to decide which ones to post for his daily dose of outside validation. The confidence boosts he got from social media likes came in bursts and were somewhat short-lived, but they added up as long as he kept posting actively.

It was easy to tell which of the pictures would be the most popular, though it made little sense to him. He had been caught completely off guard by the attention his first, spur-of-the-moment selfie had gotten, the one he had taken with Leon after their two hundred thirty-seventh match. And so, his post-match selfies had become a habit, and soon he had started posting selfies on other occasions as well. He had gained more and more followers after each one – whether Leon was posing with him or not – and, consequently, discovered a new, vain side of himself.

Well, there was nothing new about it, Raihan supposed; now he only had a handy outlet for his need to show off.

He didn’t realize Leon had come back to their table until the other spoke right by his ear. “Oh, that’s a nice picture.”

Raihan jolted, but Leon didn’t seem to notice. Adjusting his hold of the tray he was carrying, Leon reached over Raihan’s shoulder and made the photo in question fill the screen with a couple quick taps.

It was one of the candid shots Rotom had taken when Raihan had let it fly freely in the second-hand bookstore. The photo featured the two of them standing in front of a tall bookcase: Raihan was handing Leon a book he had wanted from the top shelf, and their interlinked hands were just outside the frame. Leon had been the one to initiate the contact, probably so that he wouldn’t get lost in between the rows of bookshelves that must have been maze-like and confusing to him. Although Raihan liked to think that he had gotten used to Leon’s touchy-feely nature over the years, it had been sending his heart thundering even more than usual as of late. Still, holding hands with Leon had been nice, and Raihan had been smiling stupidly to himself most of the time.

It was weird to see himself smiling in a photo, though. Not smirking or flashing a sharp-toothed grin like he usually did in his selfies, but actually _smiling_.

“I like your smile,” Leon said as if he had read his mind. “In this photo, and in general.”

Raihan just sat there, tongue-tied. He could feel the tips of his ears warming up.

“You should post it,” Leon added after a brief pause. He took a step to the side and finally stopped peering over Raihan’s shoulder.

“You think so?” Raihan faltered.

“Yeah.” Leon held the tray steadily with one hand as he placed a cup of espresso in front of Raihan, followed by a plateful of small slices of cake and quiche in half a dozen different flavors each. The tone of his voice was casual when he noted, “We look good together, don’t you think?”

Raihan did his best not to choke on air.

If he hadn’t known better, he could have sworn that Leon was flirting with him.

 _Leon_.

_Flirting._

With _him_.

What the fuck. _What_ the fuck. What the _fuck_ \- -

Leon sat down across from him and set the tray down. He had gotten himself a near-identical assortment of baked goods – aside from the fact that he had substituted two or three pieces of quiche with even more cake – and opted for hot cocoa instead of coffee. He gave Raihan a considering look and something akin to disappointment flickered over his face. The expression was gone almost instantly, though, so Raihan was sure he had just imagined it.

“Your Rotom takes great pictures,” Leon continued in the same conversational tone as before and picked up a bite-size piece of cheesecake with his fork. “They’re almost as good as the ones you take yourself. You’ve trained it well.”

Rotom whirred and beeped in Raihan’s hand, pleased with the praise.

“Y-yeah,” Raihan stammered like an idiot. “Thanks.”

Not flirting. Leon hadn’t meant his words that way. Of course he hadn’t. It had been stupid to even begin to consider such a possibility.

Raihan forced himself to concentrate on the photo again. It _was_ a nice picture, even objectively speaking. The angle, the framing, the lighting… He would need to make some touch-ups before posting, though. And adjust the color balance a little. Maybe crop the image a bit, too - -

He hazarded a glance at Leon who was now happily stuffing his face with chocolate sponge cake and had somehow managed to smear frosting on his nose already. Maybe he could be like Leon one day, comfortable in his own skin, effortlessly confident and unabashedly himself.

(Maybe he was getting there.)

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Probably not.

Or perhaps he needed a persona. Would that help? Fake it till you make it and all that, he pondered as he moved the slices on his plate into a more aesthetically pleasing alignment with each other and snapped a few more photos. Plus, wasn’t he already doing that, to an extent, with his social media accounts? Hiding some things, keeping them private – just like he did, or at least tried to do, in real life as well – while shoving other aspects to the forefront… None of it was ingenuine, but none of it was entirely _him_ , either. Even his username – the_great_raihan, based on what Leon had said to him during their Gym Challenge together – was feeding to a kind of arrogant, conceited image. Maybe it was worth building upon; his fans seemed to like it.

The corner of his mouth twitched. _Fans._ A nobody like him had _fans_. What the hell’s this world coming to? But he did have them, for some inexplicable reason. He still hadn’t quite wrapped his mind around it.

Of course, they were counterbalanced by the haters and their so-called discourse and the media scrutiny and the never-ending speculations – _He’s friends with the Champion, right? It has to be rigged. There’s no other way he could make it to the end every year_ \- -

He hastily pushed the thoughts out of his mind and refocused on Leon, who was filling the silence with cheerful chatter.

“What should we do next? I could get us into the Stadium for some private training if you’d like! It’s been a while since our last match, hasn’t it? And then we could go grab dinner from that one place you liked so much last time! You know, the one that was… Uh… Close to the station, I think? Also, you should try the chocolate cake first, it’s really good!”

Raihan put his phone down and smiled. The attention he got from Leon was more important.

Maybe hoarding all these beautiful moments was a bad idea in the long run. Surely they would only make things more painful in the end, turn into horribly bittersweet memories once everything was over and done with. But that was future Raihan’s problem. For now, he wanted to live in the moment and selfishly savor every last morsel of Leon’s presence in his life for as long as it lasted.

\- - -

**[243-0] / [5-0]**

For a while now, despite everything or maybe because of everything, Leon had started to get on Raihan’s nerves. There was something about him that made Raihan irrationally… Angry, for the lack of a better word, and he couldn’t understand why nor where his anger was even directed at, exactly. Be that as it may, Leon got more and more insufferable after each match they had.

And now, after yet another Championship match loss, that feeling came back stronger than ever. As he looked at Leon downright glowing in the glare of the spotlights and the roar of the applause and the sparkle of the confetti raining down from the sky, standing all regal and proud with his snapback-turned-crown and the mantle he needed to display all the logos of his sponsors, bathing in the glory and praise and admiration that was bestowed upon him, Raihan found himself feeling light-headed and gritting his teeth.

Because as he looked at Leon directing one of his winsome smiles his way with his hair flying in wisps around his face and his head daintily tilted to one side, all he saw was everything he yearned for but could never have.

Was the prickly sensation all over his body right then merely due to the bite of the sandstorm or were the losses finally starting to get under his skin?

Whatever it was, it was unbearable. It was too much.

 _Leon_ was too much.

Raihan fled to the locker room as soon as he was able, but even once he had gotten off the pitch, his heart refused to sit still.

If Leon were there with him now instead of getting interviewed, giving the same carefully rehearsed answers to the same old trivial questions, Raihan would rip that annoying, immaculate mantle off his shoulders and slam his back against the lockers and pin him there and feel his quickening heartbeat through the pulse point on his wrist and finally have the upper hand and his undivided attention and stare him down and look deep in those infuriatingly enthralling golden eyes that were the color of concentrated sunlight and framed by impossibly long and pretty eyelashes, and… And…

(…And feel Leon wrap his arms around his shoulders to pull him down and gently, slowly - -)

Raihan pressed his forehead against the cold metal of his locker, weakly punched the one next to it and didn’t let the all-too-familiar imaginary scenario escalate further.

He wished it had been the losses. It would have been easier to deal with. There was always a chance, no matter how slim, that the scales would tip in his favor in that regard.

(And they had, a handful of times over the years.)

(Okay, more than a handful.)

(But all those times had been just practice. They didn’t count. Under slightly different circumstances, Leon would have won every single one of those matches, too, so Raihan had always added them the undefeated Champion’s total score.)

But this? _This?_ This was nothing but hopeless.

\- - -

**[244-0] / [5-0]**

It was never meant to go like this.

Raihan knew that developing an unrequited crush on his out-of-his-league best friend was an extremely bad idea. On a scale from one to ten – where one was the best idea ever and ten was the literal worst – it was at least a twelve.

Befriending Nessa had been an eight or a nine, in hindsight, and losing her had been bad enough. He didn’t even want to think about how horribly his heart was going to shatter this time, when the day when he and Leon parted ways came around.

Because it would come. There was no escape. Believing that some things were meant to last was nothing but a foolish delusion. Everything’s temporary, following the same old pattern toward the inevitable end. It was only a matter of time. Had he learned nothing from his past experiences?

He should have. But his heart didn’t listen to reason. It did whatever the fuck it wanted.

Maybe his heart was a masochist. Maybe it liked being broken and bruised and stomped upon.

But Raihan wasn’t, and he didn’t. But maybe he deserved it.

There was absolutely no way Leon would return his feelings. Someone as amazing and incredible and sublime as Leon, fancying someone like him? That’s just ridiculous. Impossible. Leon was the very definition of brilliance. He could have anyone he wanted. With every eye drawn to him, why would he give a shit about Raihan?

So he shut up about it, hid it well, and tried his best to let his feelings go. He pushed them down, down, down, and forced himself to focus on something else.

Anything else.

\- - -

**[248-0] / [5-0]**

As of late, Leon had had the annoying habit of looking at him for a bit too long, contemplative, like he was making a mental note of something. Raihan wasn’t sure when it had started, but it definitely was _a thing_. Whenever he had caught Leon doing it and gruffly asked what was up with him, Leon had replied with a simple “Just thinking” without looking him in the eye. He never elaborated and Raihan never pressed the matter further.

Perhaps he was afraid of the answer he would get if he did. For all he knew, Leon could be pondering how to best cut ties with him or something. What other reason could there be for him to withhold what was going through his mind? Leon seldom left anything unsaid, or at least that’s how it seemed. He was quite the chatterbox.

In any case, that _thing_ had happened at least twice that day.

It was only the second time Leon had come over even though Raihan been living in Hammerlocke for seven months now. He had first caught Leon staring after the battle they had had on the Gym pitch – even their customary post-match handshake had gone on for three seconds longer than usual. The other time had been during dinner. They had eaten with the other trainees in the dorms’ communal kitchen. Everyone had been ecstatic to see Leon again; he had gotten along with everyone right away on his first visit, whereas it had taken Raihan several months to warm up enough to reach that point with his dormmates. Although the other trainees had each in turn vied for Leon’s attention, Raihan had felt his steady gaze on him the entire time.

After dinner they had stayed and chatted in the kitchen for a while longer and then turned in for the evening. Now, they were sitting side by side on the couch Raihan had managed to wedge in the corner of his tiny dorm room, between his dresser and cluttered desk; he had gotten it specifically for Leon to sleep on during his visits. The only sound was the patter of raindrops against the window as they both winded down in their own ways: Raihan by scrolling away on his phone and Leon by reading a book Raihan had recommended him over a year ago. Every now and then Leon scratched his scalp, and if Raihan looked closely, he could see tiny glimmering sand particles stuck in the purple locks even though they both had taken a shower after their battle. Unlike Leon, Raihan had gotten used to it; he knew that getting the sand off one’s person wasn’t easy. The granules were almost a part of him at this point, scattering from his hair and the folds of his clothes wherever he went.

After a time, Leon put the book down and Raihan could feel his eyes on him once again.

Three times today, huh?

When Raihan finally glanced at him and raised a questioning eyebrow, Leon simply looked him in the eyes for a long moment. The silence between them grew heavier and heavier, and just as it was about to crush Raihan under its weight, Leon transferred his gaze back to his book. Raihan turned his eyes away as well and let Leon think about whatever it was that he had to think but not talk about.

But he couldn’t focus on his feed anymore. He stared at the blurry words on his screen without reading them, fiddled with the zipper tab of his hoodie and listened to the rain.

He and Leon were already drifting apart, weren’t they? They had been for a while. Raihan had hoped that him moving out would change things, but the distance between them was still very much there.

It really sucked to hold someone in such high regard and knowing that it wasn’t mutual. Everything had been imbalanced right from the beginning, in every regard, hadn’t it? What an incompatible pair the two of them were: Leon, who excelled at everything, and Raihan, who was underwhelmingly mediocre at best.

And Leon had so much on his plate already, so many things that were more important and enjoyable. Whenever he and Raihan met up, the one thing he never failed to mention was how stupidly busy he was, how hard it was to make time for him, how he hated that he had to choose between seeing Raihan and traveling down to Postwick to visit his family and Sonia.

And Raihan was busy, too. His traineeship and college classes were taking a good chunk of his time: the wall and even some of the window above his desk were plastered with post-it notes and things to do lists. He needed to focus on himself and his career, just like Leon was doing. Prioritize.

How long would Leon bother to tolerate him, anyway?

He was nothing but a hindrance. Wouldn’t someone else, someone more capable, someone more worthy, be able to make Leon shine even brighter?

Everything would have been so much easier if Leon would just admit that he didn’t really want to be with him, that he didn’t need him, that their so-called friendship was only an annoyance to him. Maybe then his one-sided feelings would stop tormenting him. Maybe then he could stop crying over something he was never able to obtain.

He was never going to catch up. He was never going to be good enough – not for Leon nor in general. Because good enough wasn’t good enough. He had to be perfect. Like Leon.

But he wasn’t, and he would never be.

And some day, inevitably, Leon would open his eyes and realize it, too.

So wouldn’t it be better for the both of them, if…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RAIHAN NO don’t focus on _THAT_ \- - well fuck


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real life has been gently kicking my butt mentally as of late, so i’ve just been thinking about this fic instead of writing it. then again, this was a difficult chapter, so i think it did me good to just think about it for a while. now i feel like i understand raihan’s character a bit better and thus was able to convey his reasonings and way of thinking better as well. maybe. hopefully. fingers crossed  
> (also leon’s. poor leon. i crie)
> 
> anyway, ch 5 is finally here! hooray! if you thought raihan had reached peak idiocy already, he’s here to prove you absolutely wrong!!
> 
> (i’m sorry)  
> (but if it helps, i broke my own heart with this chapter, too)

**[250-0] / [6-0]**

Another year, another Cup, another failure.

That’s all there was to him.

Raihan stood and stared at the wall, absently wringing his damp towel in his hands. Even a long shower and a change of clothes later his skin still tingled. The Challengers’ locker room was empty and quiet as always, but the storm of his thoughts would have been loud enough to drown out every sound.

Year after year, he didn’t achieve anything of importance.

(Year after year, he managed to get this far.)

Year after year, he failed.

(Year after year, he got better.)

Year after year - -

All of a sudden, the locker room door clicked open, and his eyes immediately snapped toward the sound.

Leon was all smiles as he slipped inside.

“What a match! You were so amazing, Rai! It was so, so close this time, too!”

Raihan didn’t reply. It hadn’t been _that_ close. It never was. This time they had both been down to their last Pokémon and Leon’s Gigantamaxed Charizard had already taken some damage when Raihan had sent out his Dynamax Duraludon, but it hadn’t made any difference in the end. Drawing a shaky breath, Raihan threw his towel in his sports bag. He knew he had battled even worse than usual, beyond horribly, and made even more mistakes than normal. He hadn’t felt this distracted during a match before. Juggling his traineeship and the Challenge had resulted in many a sleepless night. He had so many postponed responsibilities to take care of as soon as he got back to Hammerlocke. And on top of that, the new semester would be starting almost right away. Not to mention the hollow, persistent ache that had only grown stronger day by day… He had been off his game. Leon must have noticed it, too. He noticed everything. Even during a flurry of a match like the one they had just had, he constantly kept a close eye on his opponent. The nerve of him, trying to compliment such an appalling display!

“I didn’t know you had put Torkoal back in your main team! That caught me completely off guard! You really know how to keep me on my toes!”

Raihan didn’t reply. Yeah, sure. But then Leon had sent out Seismitoad who had completely obliterated Torkoal, so what had even been the fucking point? When had Leon even gotten a Seismitoad? Why hadn’t he told Raihan about getting one? And what the hell was Leon even doing here?! He usually let the press and his fans fuss over him for ages after a match. Clenching his jaws, Raihan zipped up his bag. Leon was here just to rub salt in his wounds, wasn’t he? Every time he had to come and share his wisdom, go off on an endless tirade and find faults in everything Raihan did. Leon must be exhausted, doing this same old song and dance every single time. No matter how many times he tried to get his points across, Raihan just never fucking learned _anything_ , never reached his level, never was good enough, never was a worthy opponent.

“And when Duraludon withstood Charizard’s G-Max Wildfire… I was sure I was done for!”

Raihan didn’t reply. The realization that hit him right at that very moment was sharp and sudden, and in a flash, he was able to pinpoint the source of his ever-growing annoyance. Leon. Yes. Of course. Everything always circled back to Leon, the unbeatable Champion, Galar’s golden boy. He was the living, breathing, achingly real reminder of everything Raihan wasn’t, everything he couldn’t have, everything that would always remain out of his reach. Squeezing his eyes shut, Raihan pressed his forehead against his locker. The cold kiss of the metal didn’t help the splitting tension headache he had been having all day. He could feel his hands balling into fists.

“Maybe if you had used Sandaconda instead of Turtonator to counter my Aegislash earlier in the match - -”

“Shut up,” Raihan muttered tersely.

“- - but, of course, Turtonator was also a perfectly viable… choice…” Leon’s voice dwindled away. It had taken him a second to register that Raihan had said something, and it took him another two to parse _what_ he had said. “Huh?”

Raihan snapped his eyes open. He had to unleash the storm that had been building up inside him before it tore him apart, and he had a clear target for it now.

An easy, unassuming target.

He struck the door of his locker with the force of all his pent-up anger and frustration and stress and agitation and fear, and the resulting metallic boom resonated through the room like a crack of thunder, nearly overwhelming Leon’s alarmed yelp.

“ _For fuck’s sake, Leon!_ ” Raihan all but snarled. “You can’t just go around telling people how badly they fucked up when _you’re_ the one who keeps winning!”

Leon went perfectly quiet for a few moments. “Why are you acting so hostile all of a sudden?” he finally asked, sounding shaken and confused. “And why did you call me - -”

When Raihan wheeled around to face him, he flinched and stopped mid-sentence, startled by something in Raihan’s expression or body language or both.

Raihan’s teeth bared in a snarl. “You don’t even have to try! Everything has always been so easy for you and your natural talent! Everything you do, everything you _are_ , is flawless, an epitome of perfection! You never have to put any effort into anything!”

“But… But I really need to - -”

“You don’t know what it’s like to lose! You have no idea how it feels to always give it your all just to fall short every fucking time! No matter how hard you try, it’s never _enough_! You’ve never had to experience any of that, so don’t patronize me and look down on me and offer me your pity! I don’t need any of it!”

Leon shrunk away at his words. “Rai, listen - -”

Raihan gave a small, mirthless bark of laughter. “I don’t even deserve to be here, do I?” he mumbled. He stared at his hands, the crescents his nails had dug in his palms, and resisted the urge to bury his face in them. “I don’t stand a chance. I never have. It has all been just a fluke. I’m nothing compared to you.”

“But you’re - -”

The desperate tone of Leon’s voice only enflamed Raihan’s anger again. “I’m nothing _to_ you! I’m not even worth your time of day!” He snapped his gaze back up. “I bet you find it amusing to have a miserable, worthless loser like me around when you feel like it, don’t you?! A pathetic little plaything always at your beck and call, a shitty good-for-nothing rival who you can humiliate time and again to stroke your own ego – that’s all I am to you, right?!”

“That’s not - -!”

“ _Why else would you waste your precious time with someone as useless as me?!_ ”

The silence that ensued was deafening.

“R-Rai… What are you saying…?” Leon’s question came in barely a whisper. He looked so small and vulnerable right then – loosely wrapped in his ridiculous, over-sized mantle, his fingers anxiously fidgeting with its fur trim, silent tears leaving trails on his dust-covered cheeks.

The sight made Raihan’s blood boil and his chest tighten.

Leon was breathing unevenly. “I… I don’t understand.”

Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t expected Raihan to figure him out, to see through him and his charade.

But he had. Leon was just like everyone else.

After all, even Raihan himself was a liar, a fraud, an impostor, so why wouldn’t everyone else be? If even Raihan managed to fool others into believing in his worth and competence, why wouldn’t others be able to pull off even bigger and more elaborate deceptions?

Leon cast his eyes down and didn’t say anything more. Raihan had backed him into a corner; he didn’t have anything to say for himself. The only way he could keep himself from being caught in a blatant lie was to keep his mouth shut, anyway. The mantle was sitting heavy on his shoulders now, making them slump and causing him to look even smaller.

Raihan’s fingers twitched. He wanted to tear the garment off and… And - -

No. Raihan gritted his teeth. Not now, not ever. He was supposed to let it go. Let Leon go. Stop being a burden, stop forcing Leon to keep a false front, and end it here. One less thing for Leon to worry about. End it all here. For Leon’s sake. For both of their sakes. This was for the best. It would have come to this eventually. That’s how things were supposed to go. That’s the way the world worked. Everything must end in parting, in him getting discarded. He knew how fleeting everything was. He knew how futile it was for him to try to hold on. He knew he was nothing but a dead weight. He knew. He knew. He _knew_. It was time to let go already. This was the end of their road. He was only speeding things up, taking matters into his own hands instead of patiently and selfishly waiting it out.

Swallowing around the lump in his sore throat, Raihan grabbed his bag and strode to the locker room door. “I’m done,” he muttered through his teeth.

“ _Rai!_ ”

He slammed the door right in Leon’s face.

At the very least Leon was smart enough not to run after him.

(Or maybe he was a first-class idiot for not doing it.)

(Raihan couldn’t decide which.)

\- - -

**[250-0] / [6-0]**

He had expected to feel pure and refreshed after a furious confrontation like that. It was supposed to hurt less this way. It should have felt freeing and liberating.

Days, weeks and months passed, but the feeling never came.

The sky didn’t clear, the storm raged on, and the rain fell harder than ever.

\- - -

**[250-0] / [6-0]**

Half an hour before the final match was scheduled to begin, there was a knock at the locker room door.

Raihan didn’t acknowledge it in any way. Maybe whoever it was would leave if he didn’t respond.

A few seconds later, the hinges creaked when the door was pushed open. A pair of familiar golden eyes peeked inside, scanned the room and landed on him.

Raihan sighed. He should have guessed.

“Hi,” Leon greeted cautiously.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Raihan snapped back.

Leon winced and remained in the doorway. “I… We haven’t seen each other in a while. Or even messaged.”

By ‘in a while,’ he meant for a year – since the previous Championship Cup when he had torn Raihan and his team to shreds on the pitch and Raihan had returned the favor by tearing him and the stupid game he was playing to shreds in the locker room.

And by ‘we haven’t messaged,’ he meant that Raihan had been actively ignoring him.

It had been the best course of action. After all, a loneliness he had chosen himself was better than one caused by someone else, right?

But it seemed like Leon wasn’t going to let him make that choice. He glanced over his shoulder before stepping in all the way and closing the door behind him. He had taken off his hat and was playing with its brim. After a few indecisive moments, he spoke up. “I just wanted to - -”

Raihan had no desire to hear what he wanted, so he interrupted Leon with the first thought that came to mind. “Well, as you may know, I’m taking over as the Hammerlocke Gym Leader next season.”

A small, faint smile bloomed on Leon’s lips. “I know,” he replied softly.

Of course he knew. The Champion knew everything that was going on in the League. And Raihan knew that he knew, and he knew that Raihan knew. Did his condescension know no bounds? The idiot had even sent Raihan a congratulatory text. _I knew you could do it!! I’m so proud of you!!!_

Raihan hadn’t replied to it, just like he hadn’t replied to any message Leon had sent him during the past year. He had only read it (and reread it at least a dozen times) before throwing his Rotom Phone at the wall and screaming his frustration into a pillow. Fortunately, the poor Pokémon had seen his outburst coming and corrected its course so that Raihan hadn’t had to deal with a shattered screen on top of all his other troubles. He had trained it well.

And when Leon had mailed him a birthday present two months later – a tightly sealed container of the mysterious Master Dojo soup Raihan had only heard rumors about, along with a custom-made Duraludon plushie wearing a scarf in Hammerlocke’s colors – Raihan had seen it as the perfect opportunity to further improve his throwing skills.

(Soon after, Raihan had picked the plushie up from the floor, apologetically stroked its head and put it on his bedside table. And if he had learned anything during this sorry existence of his, it was not to waste food.)

Leon was still silently watching him. Rolling his eyes, Raihan said stiffly, “What I’m saying is that since I started undergoing intensive training, I’ve been busier than ever.” And he was. He had a lot to learn. Every Gym Leader had to deal with being a public figure, handling PR and sponsorships as well as paperwork and finances. Furthermore, the position as Hammerlocke’s Gym Leader came with the added bonus of not only the pressure of maintaining the most prestigious Gym in the region – which also happened to be an important historical site – but also curating the Vault and the library and preserving the history of Galar. And sometimes even sorting out matters indirectly related to the Chairman’s Energy Plant. Not often, though, as it seemed to function well enough even without the Gym’s input, and Raihan was perfectly fine with the way things were. Something about that project rubbed him the wrong way.

“And I’ve been busy as well, these past few years,” Leon replied placatingly. “But I’ve always made time for you, as much as I possibly could. You know that. And soon it’ll be off-season again, so maybe we could - -”

Raihan gave a gruff scoff and crossed his arms. “So, now you’re not only accusing me of being a distraction to you but also of having shitty time management skills?”

Leon let out a shocked gasp. “That’s _not_ what I meant!” he exclaimed in consternation. “Don’t put words in my mo- -”

“Don’t waste your breath. I know how it is,” Raihan spat. How dare Leon come to him like that, all meek and adorable and full of soddy excuses, still trying to keep up appearances! Raihan being here didn’t mean that he wanted to reassume their old roles and continue pretending to be friends. It would never work. It never had. He had nothing worthwhile to offer Leon. Or anyone. Why had he even bothered in the first place? He had known since the very beginning that it would end like this.

“Please. Don’t be like this,” Leon said in a small voice and took a step closer. “I miss you, Rai. I want to - -”

“Don’t call me that,” Raihan hissed and glared at Leon. “And don’t try to act all buddy-buddy with me. It’s not a good look on you.”

Leon stopped right in his tracks and blanched. He looked to be on the verge of tears. Fragile.

A sick kind of satisfaction clenched Raihan’s heart.

(Or maybe the feeling was something else entirely.)

He turned away so that his expression wouldn’t betray anything.

“Why are you - -”

“I’d rather be left alone,” Raihan cut off Leon’s words and did his best to keep his voice steady.

“Rai - -”

“Is that all, _Mister Champion_?” He flung the words at Leon like tiny knives dipped in poison; they were meant to hurt.

(It was nothing but a hopeless, pitiful attempt to lessen his own pain by passing even a fraction of it on Leon as well.)

His words were met with a stunned silence.

“I see,” Leon relented at length. “That is all.” His voice was thick and a bit muffled. Raihan could imagine him wiping his eyes with the hem of that stupid Champion mantle of his. Such a childish gesture. It was so hard to believe that in a week’s time he would turn eighteen and be a legal adult, too.

(Raihan sure didn’t feel like a grown-up either even though he had reached that momentous milestone months ago.)

When Leon spoke up again, his voice was strained but resolute. “I want you to remember that I’ll be waiting.” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for a reply. When none came, he quietly added, “See you on the pitch, Raihan.”

The door opened and closed and then Raihan was alone again.

He would get used to it. Again.

. . .

To no one’s surprise, there was no sign of the docile and tearful Leon on the pitch. The Champion smiled like he always did, shone brighter than the sun like he always did, went all out like he always did, and Raihan wanted to hate him with every ounce of his being.

He hated him because he was the reason why everything had changed - -

No, it was because he was the reason why Leon didn’t care for him like he had used to - -

No, it was because he was a liar, a liar, a liar. A liar who had enthralled him with hollow words and insincere praise and empty promises. A liar who had hidden his true colors behind a kind exterior, waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab him in the back. A liar who had made him believe in impossible things against his better judgement. A liar just like everybody else.

(But if Raihan had allowed himself to look closer, he would have seen that Leon hadn’t learned to lie. Some things he didn’t hide. None of the wide smiles that lit up his face nor any of the excited gestures he made in the heat of battle were practiced. They weren’t for the cameras or the audience or the media. They were spontaneous, they were genuine, and they were meant only for Raihan.)

(Maybe he didn’t even have anything to hide to begin with.)

(But Raihan refused to acknowledge any of it. It was easier that way.)

(At least that’s what he told himself.)

. . .

**[251-0] / [7-0]**

And so, once again, he stepped off the pitch with one more loss under his belt, the ghost of Leon’s firm handshake lingering on his skin and a sour taste in his mouth. As soon as the press had gotten its fill of him, Raihan left, heading straight back to Hammerlocke.

Still, he knew he would be back next year.

Because despite everything, every single year, Raihan would give it his all and fight his way to the top to face the Champion. Somehow, for so many consecutive years, he had made his way there; as pathetic as it was, it was the most constant thing in his life, and he didn’t have it him to let it go. 

\- - -

**[252-0] / [8-0]**

Another year, another Cup, another failure.

Here’s what Raihan told himself and the media and the world year after year: One day, he would completely crush that bastard of a Champion, knock him down a few pegs – nay, knock him all the way down to the very bottom and wipe the floor with him. One day, he would be the one to show the entire region that their beloved Champion wasn’t as fucking perfect and untouchable and insufferably untarnished and pristine as everyone thought he was. One day, he would make everyone see that they had been wrong about him all along.

\- - -

**[253-0] / [9-0]**

Another year, another Cup - -

(Here’s what Raihan refused to admit to himself year after year: No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the Champion. Somewhere deep down he knew that the Champion was Leon – the same confident yet humble, dazzling yet clumsy, talented yet ridiculously hardworking Leon he had always been. They were one and the same, two parts of a whole.)

(If either one of them had been a front, his own behavior and anger would have been justified. If they had been different people, everything would have been so much simpler. But it was impossible for him to hate the other if he at the same time - -)

Stop that, Raihan told himself. Just stop. It had been the right choice, the only possible choice. What’s done is done. Get over it already.

\- - -

**[254-0] / [10-0]**

Another year - -

(Here’s what Raihan absolutely refused to admit to himself year after year after year: There was a reason why he kept coming back, a reason why he firmly turned down every invitation to take on other regions’ Leagues, and that reason overpowered everything else.)

(In truth, he just wanted to see Leon, be with him, for even that one brief, bitter moment once a year, because it never felt quite the same with anyone else.)

(Despite the harsh winds raging around them and the windborne sand prickling their skin, it was like the eye of a storm, a moment of calm and clarity.)

(For that brief, brilliant moment once a year, he fully understood that all this – not only participating in the Cup and facing the Champion, but also _life_ itself – wasn’t and shouldn’t be about the competition or being the best or outdoing everyone else.)

(For that brief, brilliant moment once a year, it was painfully clear to him that everything he thought he knew was wrong, that he hadn’t somehow managed to deceive the entire world all this time.)

(For that brief, brilliant moment once a year, he let himself fully feel what he otherwise had kept hidden somewhere deep in his heart for years and years and years – that he truly belonged, that he really was competent, that he was worth something, that there was more to him than he gave himself credit for.)

(It was a scary feeling, and he didn’t want to accept it.)

(Because if he were to accept it, then…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, checking the outline: ah, darn, two more chapters full of Difficult and Complicated Feelings? should’ve just written some brainless fluff and saved myself the trouble  
> my brain: but angst.............. good  
> me: fair point. onward!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this time on _keeping count_ : we catch up with canon and things get even worse! (but then they start getting better)

**[255-0] / [10-0]**

When he pulled his hood over his head to block out the sun, he could feel the days-old grains of sand that had been hiding in the folds of the fabric fall down his neck.

Raihan was standing just outside the staff-only exit of Wyndon Stadium with his Rotom Phone, watching the likes and comments flooding his notifications. Surely, a huge crowd would be gathered by the main entrance to wait for either him or the Champion or both, but he wasn’t in the mood for public appearances. They would have to make do with the customary post-defeat selfie he had just uploaded.

For years, the League higher-ups had been trying to sweet-talk him into doing an exhibition match with the Champion. _It would be great publicity! The best Gym Leader versus the unbeatable Champion! The people would eat it up – the rivalry, the drama, the spectacle! What a magnificent start for the new Gym Challenge season it would be!_ Even some of his sponsors had been egging him on, saying they wanted more visibility. They didn’t care about the masses that gawked at his social media profiles every single moment of every single day – they were so old-fashioned that the word ‘influencer’ probably wasn’t even a part of their vocabularies. The only thing that mattered to them were the audience ratings of national television broadcasts and traditional media coverage.

And so, after years of dodging, Raihan had finally relented.

When the news had broken out, some said that he had gotten soft, giving in to the League like that instead of having his own way, forging his own path like he usually did.

(Those people were wrong. He had always been soft; he just didn’t often show it. It didn’t fit the public image he had carefully constructed over the years.)

(And he had always had a soft spot for a certain someone with golden eyes. And even though he didn’t want to fully admit it, he had been craving to feel those eyes on him.)

It had been a one-on-one battle, both combatants Gigantamaxing right out of the gate. All of it, including the scripted and uninspired trash talk, had been primarily for show; they had been advised to be flashy. That’s just how exhibition matches usually worked, and that embellishment was why Raihan had never especially cared for them. They never felt like _real_ battles.

But today’s match - -

Raihan gave his head a shake. He never learned, did he?

A sudden voice pulled him back to the present. “There you are!”

Speaking of people who never learned… Raihan lifted his eyes to see Leon coming toward him across the parking lot. Had he gotten lost on his way out of the Stadium? Typical. Heaving a deep sigh, Raihan put his phone away. “What do you want?”

Leon halted a safe distance away. He opened his mouth to speak only to close it a second later. He seemed to consider his next words carefully. “I didn’t hear back from you. Did you get the package I sent you?”

Raihan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I did,” he admitted sullenly. They only met in person once a year, but Leon had kept sending him sporadic messages. And birthday presents. And short reviews of the books he was still slowly working his way through even though Raihan had recommended them to him years ago.

(He shouldn’t have encouraged Leon, but sometimes Raihan replied to his messages. Sometimes a false comfort was better than no comfort at all.)

He deliberately didn’t look at Leon as he added weakly, “Thanks, I guess. You shouldn’t have.”

He really shouldn’t have. He was making everything so much more difficult. As if everything wasn’t difficult enough already. As if Raihan wasn’t hurting enough already. As if it wasn’t already killing him.

Why did Leon keep doing shit like that – being nice to him, acting as if nothing had happened? Why was he so intent on keeping the charade going? What good did it do to anyone? Raihan didn’t get it at all. He supposed Leon felt obligated to do it. Maybe feeling sorry for Raihan, gracing a lowly second-rater with his attention as an act of charity, made Leon feel better about himself. It was just a way for him to polish up his image. That must be it. What an idiot. The guy really couldn’t take a hint. Didn’t Leon understand that associating his magnificent self with a loser like Raihan would only have the exact opposite effect on his reputation?

Their eyes met. The only way Raihan could describe the expression on Leon’s face was patient, cautiously hopeful.

It made no sense.

(Or perhaps…)

Raihan cleared his throat. “Leon, I…”

Leon’s lips curled up ever so slightly. The smile was tiny yet genuine, not one of those Raihan had seen plenty of on the Champion’s face these past few years – strained and weary in a subtle manner, with just a sliver of sadness clinging to the corners of his mouth.

Sometimes Raihan wondered if anyone else was able to notice such things.

(Sometimes Raihan wondered why he tormented himself by noticing such things.)

He quickly lowered his eyes. “Aren’t you tired of this?”

“Honestly…?” Leon let out a long exhale through his nose. “Yeah. I am.”

Raihan didn’t have the energy to be surprised by the terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. Of course Leon was fed up. Who wouldn’t be after playing pretend for years and years and years? He had been right all along. He was only weighing Leon down. An inconvenience. A thorn in his side.

Wouldn’t Leon be so much happier if he didn’t have to worry about him?

Wouldn’t it bring both of them peace of mind?

“So,” Raihan began, directing his words at his sneakers, “it’s better to put an end to it once and for all, yeah?”

Leon was quiet for a time. He sounded puzzled when he began, “Rai - -”

Raihan met his eyes with resolve he didn’t have. “Let’s just drop the pretenses.” You don’t really need someone like me in your life. Don’t lie to me. “We both know how it is. How it has always been.” You don’t need to pretend anymore. “You should just leave me alone.” I don’t need your pity.

Leon stared at him. Then, slowly, the last remnant of his smile faded and his eyes lost their usual luster. And in that very moment Raihan saw that something broke inside him, something he had managed to keep intact for the past few years. The expression he wore was painfully honest, dejected. Defeated.

He, the great Raihan, had defeated the Champion. At last.

He had finally succeeded, and it felt awful.

He couldn’t take it.

He didn’t wait for Leon’s excuses. He simply turned his back to him and released Flygon from his Ultra Ball.

And he fled.

It was a tactical retreat, he told himself. A tactical retreat. There was a huge difference.

(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that it was a terrible mistake. But he had convinced himself that he didn’t deserve the alternative.)

(Maybe he _was_ a masochist, after all.)

\- - -

**[255-0] / [10-0]**

On the last day of summer, the counter should have ticked to eleven-nil in the Championship match, two hundred fifty-six-nil in total.

It hadn’t.

That had been the first wake-up call.

Still, Raihan had encouraged the one who had been the cause of his ten-year streak breaking, let the storm speak with his mouth. After all, Leon wouldn’t lose to some random kid.

Even if Leon was the one who had endorsed said kid. Even if said kid had been the most formidable Challenger Raihan recalled ever encountering. Even if said kid had somehow been even more terrifying during the semifinals, a realization which had filled Raihan’s heart with a vague dread - -

No, everything was fine. Leon never lost. Raihan would just try again next year, as always. It was fine.

After the exhibition, Leon had stopped contacting him altogether. And it was fine, too. It was how things were supposed to go. Yeah. It was fine. Everything. Was. _Fine._

They hadn’t seen each other all summer, either, not until Raihan had caught a glimpse of Leon in the evacuation chaos, running in the opposite direction of the people fleeing the Castle. And then, nothing.

The news had leaked in the morning.

That had been the second wake-up call, tremendously more violent than the first one had been.

(Then again, calling them the first and the second wasn’t entirely accurate. He had just stubbornly ignored all the previous ones.)

He had almost literally run into Hop at the entrance of Hammerlocke Hospital. The last time Raihan had seen him in person before this summer, Hop had been a seven-year-old brat. Now he was fifteen, almost taller than Leon and, in true teenager fashion, still very much a brat. The deadly glare he had given Raihan right then was far from the jovial expression he had maintained when he had taken on Hammerlocke’s Challenge a week prior.

He had, however, stepped aside with a brusque “I’m only letting you in because I’m sure that’s what my idiot of a big brother would have wanted” – whatever that was supposed to mean – and also filled Raihan in on his brother’s current status. It hadn’t been a pretty thing to hear first thing in the morning.

So, even though Raihan knew what to expect as he stepped through the door Hop had indicated to him, he couldn’t help choking up. Leon, usually so full of life, was lying perfectly still, breathing steadily but shallowly. According to Hop, he had been unconscious ever since he had been brought in after his confrontation with the calamitous dragon that had been slumbering, undetected, right under Raihan’s nose for years.

Raihan sat down on the chair set beside Leon’s bed. “It’s so stupid, isn’t it?” he asked after a time even though he knew Leon couldn’t hear him. “That it takes a literal life-or-death situation for me to finally admit my own idiocy.”

And as he sat there, he had time to think things through, to contemplate.

How had it come to this?

Raihan knew exactly how and why. He had known for a while but decided not to acknowledge it.

He was the one at fault even though he had tried to put the blame on Leon. He was the one who had let everything spiral out of control. He was the one who had let his stubbornness and pride get in the way. He was the one who had gotten fixated on the one imbalance between them instead of all the other ways in which they were equals. He was the one who had tied so much of his self-image, both as a Trainer and a person, to how he saw Leon. It had been distorted and subjective to begin with, and since he had never learned to see Leon objectively, either, it had only magnified his shortcomings and perceived failures.

Jealousy, blind admiration and lack of self-esteem sure didn’t mix well.

He had used to think that being human was all about building façades, baring your teeth and hiding your vulnerability. If you didn’t, everyone else would be quick to devour you. Either you were the best or you were nothing at all. Either you became the storm or got swept away by it.

The past he had wanted to shake off was still very much a part of his present. All the crooked and unhealthy shit he had internalized, the ever-present feeling of inadequacy in his hopeless quest for perfection, the deeply ingrained insecurity which the ten-year-old soon-to-be-Champion had called him out on almost immediately – those were the things he had wanted to let go of. Instead he had clung to them; they were a familiar kind of torment. When things had always been a certain way, it was hard to envision that they would change for the better or change at all.

But things had changed, hadn’t they? They had changed a long time ago. He had a life of his own making. He had found his place in the world, doing what he loved and what he was good at. The rational part of him knew that he was so much more than just Raihan, the unbeatable Champion’s rival, the perpetual runner-up. He had found success, on his own merits, through hard work. Not in the way he had originally intended, sure, but even without the Champion’s crown to call his own, he had achieved a lot.

Over time, he had even begun letting people in again and found a healthier social network. Colleagues. Drinking buddies. Group chat members. Friends? Yeah. He was reluctant to throw the word around casually, but he supposed he could call them that, too. And he did. Not only the Gym staff and the up-and-coming Trainers he coached and his dorm mates from his traineeship days he kept in contact with, but also all the other Gym Leaders.

Even Nessa, even though Raihan still felt a bit awkward around her at times. Sweet, strong-willed Nessa, his childhood best friend and present-day… _something_. Not quite a friend yet, not in the way they had once been, but they were getting there.

A couple of years ago, the newly appointed Hulbury Gym Leader had come to him at an official League event, thus making it impossible for him to flee without causing a scene – she was as cunning and ruthless as she was beautiful, that Nessa – and finally, finally, forced him to stop deflecting and running away and just _listen_. She had apologized for not realizing what had been going on sooner, for not being able to stand up for him and be there for him, for being too passive and letting him become so withdrawn and drift away from her.

Even though she was a part of the life he had left behind, she had been one of the few good parts. So, he had accepted her apology and, some time later, even forgiven her. It hadn’t been her fault, anyway. And he had had his fair share of overdue apologies to say, even though he had always hated apologies, both giving and receiving them.

Gradually, it had dawned on him that most people weren’t like what he had come to assume was the norm. Most people didn’t go out of their way to make others’ lives miserable and destroy their self-esteem, most people didn’t get close to someone just to hurt and abandon them later, most people didn’t play duplicitous games at the expense of others. In fact, those kinds of people were the exceptions. Thus, Leon hadn’t really been different.

Yet he had been, and was, special.

Call it fate or whatever you will, but Leon had found him. And he had found Leon – a friend, a best friend, who had wormed his way into his heart right away, who had accepted him as he was, despite all his bad qualities. Leon had been the first encounter on his journey, the one who had helped take those baby steps forward and start leaving his doubts behind. Sometimes he still relapsed and let his accomplishments be overshadowed by his shortcomings, but the ghosts of the past and the ever-present self-doubt were quieter now, not as constant.

But, ultimately, he had screeched to a halt and backpedaled, fallen back to his old ways and insecurities, and tried to cut ties with Leon. It had been a half-hearted attempt, perhaps, but an attempt nonetheless. Despite trying to rationalize the logic behind his decision to himself a thousand different ways, he had always known that his hurt was entirely self-imposed.

And, in the end, he couldn’t imagine a life without Leon in it. Even their current twisted rivalry was better than being completely without him.

What a mess this was.

“What we had… It should never have been about winning or losing,” Raihan heard himself breathe into the heavy silence. “And it never has been to you, has it? Well, you were always the smart, more stable one.”

Quietly, almost without him noticing, rain had begun to fall. He tried to ignore it.

“Losing to you isn’t that bad. But _losing you_ would’ve been…”

The sound of rain hitting the floor mingled with the steady beep of the heart monitor.

“I love you. I always have, no matter how much I’ve tried to deny and suppress it. I’ve been so stupid. I…”

He buried his wet face in his hands.

“Please wake up, Lee. Wake up so I can apologize.”

But it was too late to fix anything now, wasn’t it? He had let the storm rage on for too long.

. . .

He wasn’t there when Leon woke up.

\- - -

**[255]**

When Raihan found out that the Champion had been released from the hospital and the final match would be held that very afternoon, he left his half-finished lunch on his desk and beelined to Wyndon to seek Leon out. It was too soon. There was no way Leon had fully recovered yet. He was being impulsive and reckless. Didn’t anyone else realize that?! It didn’t make any fucking sense!

Nothing made any sense. Nothing had made any sense for a long time.

He had to find Leon.

Word had travelled fast – the Stadium was packed by the time Raihan got there. Leon hadn’t been at his apartment, so he had to be here somewhere already. Raihan threaded his way through the crowd, ignoring the fans shouting after him as he made his way to the elevator. Security let him pass with a curt nod.

He had been blindly wandering the corridors on the eastern side of the Stadium for an indeterminable amount of time when he rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Just down the hall, Leon was speaking with a League staff member. Raihan couldn’t hear their words, but he had gotten there just in time to catch the tail-end of their conversation – the staffer pointed to the other end of the corridor and to the left, gave a small bow and took her leave.

Now or never, Raihan decided and cautiously started down the hallway.

When Leon turned toward the sound of his footsteps and noticed him, a momentary smile broke out on his face. It faded in an instant, as if it had been nothing but a trick of the light.

Raihan stopped a few paces away and tried to collect his thoughts, but to no avail.

And so, as often was the case, Leon was the one who spoke first. “I’m sorry it wasn’t you. I truly am. Not only because you’ll miss your chance this year but also because we only ever see each other at these matches anymore - -”

“Lee - -”

“Raihan, don’t,” Leon cut him off, uncharacteristically terse. “Please. Just don’t. Let me have this. Just this _once_ , don’t interrupt me and listen to what I have to say.”

Raihan found himself rendered speechless.

As if ashamed by his outburst, Leon lowered his eyes to the floor. When he continued, the tone of his voice was almost unbearably gentle. “I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you pushing me to constantly improve. I was able to reach new heights thanks to you. You helped me get here. I… I’ve always loved battling you. You’re truly one of a kind and… I’m so glad we met. Even though you’ve grown to hate me, I will always treasure our friendship and every moment I got to spend with you. I really wanted this to work, and I made every effort to make it work. And I’m sorry for being so clingy and selfish and stub- -”

“Don’t apo- -”

“No, I get it,” Leon declared, raising his voice only a little bit, and firmly ignored Raihan’s attempt at interrupting him. “I get it. I should have stopped pestering you years ago, face the facts, accept the decision you had made. But I just thought that… Maybe…” He paused and shook his head at himself. “Nothing but wishful thinking, I suppose. I guess I really wasn’t as good at reading people as I thought I was.” As he spoke, Leon brought his hand up to gingerly touch his side, right where the worst of his fresh surgery scars was. “I wish things would have played out differently. I really, really do,” he continued in a hushed voice.

Me, too, Raihan wanted to say, but couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.

“I have to go,” Leon sighed. “I’ll give it my all, just like you always told me to, and I’ll see you next year.” He lifted his face just enough that Raihan could see a small, sad smile upon his lips. “Or maybe I won’t. That kid’s tough, almost out of this world, aren’t they? They may very well win today. And if they do…”

Leon hesitated for a split second. Then he took a quick step forward, threw his arms around Raihan and hugged him tightly.

And Raihan just stood there, dumbfounded, with his hands hovering mere inches away from Leon’s back. Before he had time to properly grasp what was happening and return the embrace, Leon had already pulled away.

“Sorry about that,” Leon mumbled. He finally met Raihan’s eyes again, gracing him with one last teary-eyed smile. “Goodbye, Raihan. Take care,” he whispered. “And thank you. For everything.”

And with that, Leon turned on his heel and left. He walked slowly, as if he wanted to be stopped, as if he was waiting for some first-class idiot to run after him. Halfway down the corridor he lengthened his stride, though, and soon he had disappeared around a corner without a backwards glance.

Raihan punched the wall.

Too late. It had been too late.

“Fuck.”

\- - -

**[255]**

Leon lost with a brilliant smile on his face, and it broke Raihan’s heart.

In an attempt to be spared from a painful goodbye, he had only managed to bring about an even more painful one.

. . .

It can’t end like this.

. . .

It can’t.

. . .

It _can’t_.

\- - -

**[255]**

This was horribly selfish of him, wasn’t it? He had no right to be here.

He had messed up so many chances, but he had to try one last time. Get closure if nothing else.

Raihan mustered up his non-existent courage and knocked on the Champion’s locker room door. It was met with a simple, faint “Come in.”

A myriad of emotions flickered over Leon’s face the moment he saw Raihan opening the door. “Ah. It’s you.” He inhaled sharply, visibly steeling himself. He tried and failed to mask the pain in his voice when he spoke. “I guess I wasn’t qualified to give you all that advice back then, huh? Is that what you came here to tell me? Kick me a little when I’m down? One last laugh before I officially step down?”

Raihan remained in the doorway, unsure how to respond, how to even begin.

“Please. Just go,” Leon continued shakily. “Leave. I-I don’t want to see you right now. Or ever again.”

If there was one thing Raihan was sure about, it was that Leon had always been a terrible liar.

A terrible, terrible liar.

Raihan didn’t think about the implications of Leon lying. He wasn’t thinking at all as closed the door and approached Leon.

Leon winced. “W-what are you - -?!”

Raihan trusted his instincts and, on a complete whim, put his arms around Leon.

There was nothing but silence and stillness for the duration of a few heartbeats.

“Why…?” Leon whispered. “Why _now_ …?” Slowly, he returned the embrace – cautiously at first, then more and more firmly, his fingers curling into the back of Raihan’s shirt as he began to tremble. “Raihan - -”

Raihan instinctively pulled him closer, overwhelmed by the sensation of having Leon in his arms again, so solid and warm and _him_ , and just hugged him tighter and tighter - -

Leon let out a gasp. “Ah, watch out for the ribs - -”

“I’m sorry,” Raihan blurted out, only barely registering that Leon had said something.

“It’s okay,” Leon sniffled. “I just took some painkillers, they should kick in any minute now - -”

Raihan flinched. “Ah, shit.” He quickly loosened his grip. “That wasn’t what I was talking about. I mean, I’m also sorry for that, obviously, but…”

Well, fuck. This was bad. Real bad. This wasn’t appropriate at all. He was just supposed to apologize, get rightfully shot down and get out of Leon’s life with the knowledge that he had done something right in his life for once. Good job, asshole.

But Leon was still hugging him back and quietly weeping into his shoulder. He must be utterly shaken to be _this_ desperate for comfort. He really didn’t know what it was like to lose. Raihan was the very last person who should be consoling him, but he was also the only one available right then, so he didn’t draw away like he should have.

And Leon deserved an apology and an explanation.

Raihan finally found his voice again. “I meant everything I’ve done these past few years. And everything I haven’t done, too.”

Leon shook his head. “I shouldn’t have dumped all that unsolicited advice on you - -”

“Don’t say that,” Raihan protested. “Don’t try to put the blame on yourself. It was my fault. I… It was nothing but an excuse for me to lash out and take my pent-up frustrations out on you. I _knew_ you were genuinely trying to help, as always. That’s just the kind of person you are. You want everyone to become strong, be their best possible selves. That’s what I admire about you. And I… I’ve been my worst possible self lately. For years.” He fell silent for a time before pushing on. “What it comes down to is that… You genuinely loved being the Champion. It’s the perfect role for you. You loved it, and I got jealous.”

“Of me being the Champion?” Leon sighed deeply. “It’s no big deal, really. I mean, it’s not like you’re the only one who - -”

“It wasn’t like that. It never was, not really. I mean… It’s more like…” Raihan bit his tongue. But this may be his only chance. He forced the words out of his mouth. “You were my everything. And I selfishly wanted to be the most important thing to you, too. So I… I was scared that you loved being the Champion more than you could ever love me.”

Leon went perfectly still. “…Wha- -?”

“And that’s how it seemed like to me,” Raihan hastened to add. “Not only because it required so much of your attention, but also because… That’s what I was used to thinking, you know? Nothing lasts forever. That’s just how it goes. Sooner or later, you would grow tired of me. You would take one good look at me and see underneath the surface and… You would realize that I’m not worth your time. Because you’re you and… And I’m nothing but… I’m just…”

He let the rest of the sentence taper off into silence. He didn’t need to say it aloud. He didn’t want to admit it. It wasn’t Leon’s burden to bear, anyway. Sure, he had had the bad habit of peppering conversations with vague self-deprecating jokes alluding to the fact, but all of them had gone right over Leon’s head.

But even without understanding the concept on a personal level nor knowing the underlying reasons for it, Leon _knew._ He had known since he was ten. “I know this may be hard for you to believe, but trust me,” he began. “You’re wonderful and worthy of all good things in life. You were never a burden, and I was never faking anything. You know that, right? I’ve always enjoyed your company and wanted to be with you.” Leon paused for a few breaths. “I was the happiest when I was with you. And I wanted you to be happy, too. So I did my best to respect your boundaries even if it meant giving you more space than I would have liked. So I… I waited for you. I kept waiting.”

You should have hated me instead, Raihan thought. After everything, you absolutely should have.

He still didn’t say anything aloud, so Leon spoke up to fill the silence. “Look. I… I won’t say that being the Champion wasn’t important to me. It was. But in the end, it’s just a title, a job. I knew I would lose it one day, sooner or later. But the people in my life who I hold dear… The love I have for them is different from the love I have for being the Champion. It’s so much stronger and it’s there to stay. Those two loves aren’t comparable, they’re so fundamentally different. And…” Leon faltered for a bit. “You’re also important to me, you’ve always been, but… in a different way. Am I making any sense?”

And there it was, yet another thing Leon was good at: turning people down gently. “I get you,” Raihan sighed. Even though he had known to expect this, it still stung. For Leon, their relationship was a friendship mixed with rivalry, nothing else. It _was_ a pretty unique situation to find oneself in, wasn’t it? Completely different from what normal people had. Raihan had been right to dismiss the possibility of mutual feelings. It had been hopeless from the get-go. Leon would never see him the same way. “So you’re saying that it was stupid of me to feel that way,” he mumbled.

“Yeah. I guess I kinda am,” Leon admitted softly. His hair tickled Raihan’s skin as he shifted a bit closer and pressed his face into the crook of Raihan’s neck. “But… I think I get it. Or at least I’m beginning to.”

Raihan bit back a laugh. What was there to get? Who wouldn’t fall for him, especially after knowing him for years and seeing all of him up close? Leon was so dumb sometimes.

They both were.

An expectant silence had fallen over them. Raihan supposed it was his turn to break it. Get this over with. This was why he was here.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he began. “I believed that if I was the one to put an end to everything it wouldn’t hurt as bad. But in the end, I was hurting not only you but also myself. Still, I didn’t want to face that fact. I was a coward.”

He tried to keep his breathing steady and even.

“I said such terrible things to you and projected my own insecurities and fears on you. You had never done anything that would’ve warranted any of that.”

His voice was getting raspy, so he paused to clear his throat.

“Remember that first summer? When you became Champion? I said that it wouldn’t come between us. What a silly declaration… Yet that’s exactly what happened, and it was all my fault.”

He halted again, secretly glad that he couldn’t see Leon’s expression right then and vice versa.

“I tried to bring myself to hate you, as if it would make me feel better. But I couldn’t, and it didn’t. I screwed everything up and just… kept acting like the absolute idiot I am. I… I was too damn proud to stop and admit that I was in the wrong. And it’s so stupid, but it wasn’t until… When you… The thought of losing you completely…”

He drew a ragged breath and held Leon just a little tighter.

“I was a jerk and I hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For everything.”

Leon had listened to his disjointed flood of words quietly and he stayed quiet for a long while after he had finished. Eventually, he pulled away from the embrace, and Raihan reluctantly let him go.

(He was definitely _not_ crying, but he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve anyway.)

Leon, however, let his tears flow freely and openly. Cautiously, he took Raihan’s hands in his. “Raihan, I - -”

“Don’t call me that.” The words spilled out of his mouth involuntarily. One last selfish plea.

“…Rai.” Leon’s wobbly, tearful smile was like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

“That’s more like it.” Raihan did his best to return Leon’s smile. “Sorry for interrupting you. Again. I should probably work on it. You were saying?”

Leon lightly squeezed his hands. “I… I accept your apology. Or, well, all your apologies.”

Raihan merely nodded in response, dumbstruck. Leon really was too good for this world.

“And I… When you said… Do you still…” Leon’s face was already red from crying, but suddenly the color on his cheeks deepened. He looked aside as the continued fumbling with his words. “Because I… But if you don’t… I-I mean I think we should…” He took a few steadying breaths and met Raihan’s eyes again. “Can we… be friends again?”

It was the last question Raihan had expected to hear. “Y-yeah. Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti* THEY DID IT!!! ~~(and managed to talk past each other in the most spectacular way BUT STILL!!)~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at the word count of this chapter* well then. this wasn’t supposed to be the longest chapter of this fic yet here we are
> 
> sorry for the wait. once again, i’ve been thinking about this fic more than i’ve been writing it. here’s to hoping the final chapter won’t take this long!!

**[255]**

Two days later, Leon was waiting for him at Lake Miloch.

Raihan stopped at the end of the bridge when he spotted Leon. He was sitting by the edge of the water with Charizard’s head on his lap, looking across the water and petting his partner Pokémon’s muzzle. He must have flown on Charizard’s back from Postwick – Raihan had opted to take the early-morning express train from Hammerlocke to Meetup Spot and walk the rest of the way.

He hadn’t been to the South Wild Area in a while; the last time he had walked down the path from the station had been six years ago. He had taken in the familiar sights and tried to rid of the nervous energy that had built up inside him. In the end, it had helped only a little. His heart had filled with a peculiar mixture of nostalgia and disquiet even though he knew that this time his ultimate destination wouldn’t be at the seaside beyond the mountain range.

But here…

Raihan leaned on the railing of the bridge. Right here. This is exactly where and how he wanted to be. He would always want to return here, to this. To _him_. That fact hadn’t changed and would never change.

And he had almost let all this slip through his fingers.

He really hated himself for it. Not that it was anything new.

He still didn’t think that he deserved a second chance, but if Leon was going to offer him one, he would take it. He was selfish like that after all.

Still… Leon’s offer to rekindle their friendship was all good and valid, but - -

Raihan shook his head at himself. No buts. Holding onto _that_ tiny sliver of hope had been foolish. Leon was under no obligation to return his romantic feelings, and Raihan had never expected him to, anyway. He wouldn’t bring up the subject again; the memory of his clumsy, half-baked confession was embarrassing enough. He would have liked to do it with more grace, say the words in an entirely different situation, but it didn’t matter – the end result would have been the same regardless.

He would learn to let his feelings go in time. Like he should have learned years ago.

Still, he let his eyes linger on the scene when neither Trainer nor his Pokémon had noticed his arrival. It was strange to see, for the first time in years, Leon in casual clothes and an outfit he had obviously picked himself. It was quite the sight. None of his stylists’ lectures on color theory and the tasteful mixing of different prints and patterns had rubbed off on him, eh?

A nicer person would have called his getup a daring combination or a playful deconstruction of the rules of fashion.

Raihan simply called it a crime.

A fantastic, smile-inducing crime.

Slowly, he let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding. The clashing colors currently on Leon’s person would have strained his eyes under any other circumstance, but like this… They were a comfort.

He was just Lee. He had always been, no matter which facet of himself he was showing to the world.

He stopped leaning on the railing and began walking toward the shore. When he was around two dozen steps away, he took a deep breath. “Oi!”

Leon jolted at the sound of his voice and quickly turned to look at him.

Raihan swallowed. He wanted to believe that Leon had chosen this location for their meet-up for a reason. So he began, “Is he your starter?”

Leon’s expression was unreadable. “Yeah. He is,” he replied, expectantly looking up at Raihan. Waiting.

Raihan nodded. “In that case, I’ll send out my starter as well.” He fished a well-worn Ultra Ball out of his pocket and released Flygon.

If the resolute smile that bloomed on Leon’s lips was anything to go by, his assumption had been spot on.

“No one-on-one this time. Full teams,” Leon declared as he patted his cheeks and rose to his feet. He got into position across from Raihan with his back straight, feet planted firmly apart, eyes intense. “We should both go all out.”

Raihan smirked in response. As if they had ever been able to do it any other way.

. . .

**[256]**

There were no winners and no losers – just two rivals-slash-friends in the eye of a storm, giving it their all and blowing off some steam, clearing the air.

And once the dust had settled and the two had shaken hands and fallen on their backs onto the grass, Raihan felt pure and refreshed. And happy. The smile on his face was so wide that it made his cheeks hurt, yet his heart was so raw that he almost felt like crying. But only almost.

When he opened his eyes and looked to his left, he found Leon’s eyes on him. He was smiling, too, bright and wide and genuine, just like on the day they had first met.

For a long while, all they did was look at each other, as if committing the other’s features to memory again.

“I had really missed this,” Raihan said softly.

“Me, too,” came Leon’s equally soft reply.

Raihan bit back a laugh. He sat up, reached into his bag and pulled out the Soda Pop he had bought from the vending machine at the train station. Without another word, he handed the can to Leon. Its contents had gotten lukewarm by that point – the day was warm despite the sky being overcast – but once Leon had gotten over his initial surprise, he didn’t seem to mind. He still liked the sugary garbage and Raihan still didn’t understand his infatuation with the stuff.

After the first sip, Leon began a bit timidly, “That was an innovative way of using Stone Edge back there.”

The good old post-battle strategy meeting, eh? Raihan had missed this as well.

And so, they talked about the battle, just like in the good old days, while they tended to their teams.

“It feels wrong to say this,” Leon suddenly conceded once they had recalled their Pokémon into their balls for some well-earned rest, “but this is a relief. Not being the Champion anymore.”

Raihan’s shock must have been written all over his face, for Leon gave him a small half-smile.

“It’s like you said. It was the perfect role for me,” Leon began and drew his knees up to his chest. “At least the idea of it was, and it breaks my heart that I had to let it go. But I’ve been thinking, these past few days. I had never particularly wanted it. I’ve always loved Pokémon, and the only thing I wanted was to become a better Trainer. So it’s silly that I got the title because I was deemed the strongest Trainer, but after a few years in the role, I barely had time to do what Trainers were supposed to do. And what being the Champion entailed, all the attention and busywork and fame… That part wasn’t for me. But I obediently grew into it, eventually, because that’s what a decent person would do.” He took in a small breath. “Still, it was taking too much of my time. I was too young and naïve when it got thrust upon me, so it didn’t even occur to me how stressful and draining it was until it was too late. After all, I was barely _twelve_ when I was all but forced to move to Wyndon to live on my own, under Rose’s watchful eye. In hindsight, it was suffocating, always only showing my best sides to the public, making sure that not a single trait that could be considered negative surfaced. I was supposed to be kind and proper and selfless, and I suppose I _am_ all of those things. But it’s not the full picture. And even a positive trait can turn negative when it’s taken to the extreme.”

As if growing up wasn’t hard enough as it is… Raihan listened attentively and made sure not to interrupt.

Leon began twirling a purple strand around his index finger. “And even when I tried to rebel or fight back, it always backfired.” He smiled sadly to himself. “Rose always told me that I was being ungrateful and selfish and greedy, and he used it as an excuse to tighten his leash. So I… resigned myself to the role, did as I was told and pushed through. I trusted him and just went along. Well, he kept me busy and never told me the full of extent of his plans, anyway, so what reason did I have to do otherwise? There had been some red flags, but I chose to ignore them. Surely I was just overthinking things. And what could I have even done about it? I held no real power, not over those things. I was little more than a charismatic distraction to the general public while Rose tinkered with his own plans behind the scenes and accumulated more and more power.”

Raihan had never been a fan of Rose, and in the light of recent events and what Leon had just told him, the ex-Chairman had hit an all-time low in his eyes. He would have been absolutely seething with rage and ready to break into the prison to give the man a piece of his mind – and let his fists do the talking, preferably – if Leon hadn’t been radiating a strange calm. It took the edge off his anger.

“I was brought up to see the good in everyone,” Leon continued. “And when you’re a kid, you’re supposed to be able to trust the adults around you, right? All the adults in my life had been trustworthy. But not Rose. Maybe he had been at first, so…” He faltered and paused. “I didn’t want to face the possibility that I had been wrong about him. Right till the very end, I wanted to believe that he knew what was best for me and Galar. And I think he, too, truly believed in his own ways.”

Maybe so, but it didn’t justify any of his actions. It was something Raihan knew first-hand.

Leon fell silent for a time. He took one last sip of his soda and shook the can to confirm that it was indeed empty before continuing, “My life was out of my hands before I knew it. I had so many responsibilities that kept me from my family and friends and doing what I really wanted to do as the Champion.” He gave his head a small shake. “And now that all that’s gone… I should be happy, but it feels like I’ve been left adrift. Everything I had come to know changed so suddenly and all at once. I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself.”

Raihan longed to reach for Leon’s hand to comfort him. But it would have been inappropriate. “I’ll be there for you. If you’ll have me,” he offered warily instead. To his great relief, Leon responded with a small nod.

Things would probably be rather awkward between them for a time, though, while they rebuilt their mutual trust and got used to each other’s company again. It would take time and effort, but they were both stubborn. If they set their minds to it, they would eventually reattain the level of comfort they had used to have.

When Leon stayed quiet, Raihan continued, “Besides, you’ve got time to figure everything out – what you _want_ to do instead of what you _have_ to do. You’re still young.”

Leon huffed and straightened his legs. “You say that as if you were a hoary old man yourself.”

“Oh, don’t you know?” Raihan asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I _am_ ancient. Twenty-two is the new eighty.” He stretched his arms over his head and heard a joint or two pop.

It made Leon laugh out loud and roll his eyes. “So, you’re telling me that I have three days to get my life in order before it’s too late, huh?”

Raihan shot him a mischievous smirk. Then, fixing a more serious expression on his face, he admitted, “Personally, I’d like to start thinking that it’s never too late.”

Leon made a soft sound of assent and turned his eyes toward the lake. “I _do_ have some ideas,” he conceded after a few moments of silence. “But I think it’ll take more than three days to set any of those plans in motion.”

“Oho? Wanna share with the class?”

Leon gave Raihan a sideways glance. “Maybe later,” he replied at length. “And I suppose I should take care of the mess Rose left behind first.”

“Is it your responsibility, though?” Raihan asked.

Leon considered his question for a moment. “I… I think it is. As Rose’s protégé and the Champion… Er, the former Champion, I mean,” he corrected himself with a sigh. “I’ll probably end up taking over the League as well. The higher-ups have already asked me. Apparently, I’m the best choice for the role.”

“Take some time for yourself first,” Raihan said. “Be selfish for a change.” Maybe that wasn’t the best piece of advice, but he trusted that Leon could do it the right way.

For some reason, Leon had tensed at his words. Heaving a long sigh, he relaxed his shoulders and smiled a little. “Believe me, I’m trying to,” he noted, glancing over at Raihan. He fixed his eyes on the lake again. “I’ll try to be better about it. Balancing work and free time, I mean. It’s been so long since my life has had any semblance of balance in that regard, though, so it might take a while. I’ve always been a restless soul, but I suppose that after years of conditioning, not doing anything productive makes me extra uneasy.” There was nothing funny about his words because they were painfully true, but he laughed a little anyway. It was the laughter of a broken man, full of forced cheer.

Raihan heaved a small sigh. They both were a bit broken, weren’t they?

Leon fidgeted with the empty can in his hands for a long while. “All this time you were hurt and lonely, too,” he finally began. “And I knew that. But I didn’t know what to do or what to say and I’m sorry that I let it all happen and that I wasn’t able to - -”

“It’s all right,” Raihan cut him off without thinking. “You did your best. And I already told you that it was my own stupid fault.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

Raihan averted his eyes. If Leon had done something in a different way, if he had been pushier and more insistent, would everything have turned out differently? Or would Raihan’s stubbornness still have won, made him fight back even harder? At this point, it was impossible to say. In any case, Leon had always been too nice, too considerate, too nonconfrontational to _really_ push it, or anything for that matter.

“It’s strange, how easy it is to get used to something and grow numb, in a way,” Leon mused, his eyes going distant. “And how you only realize it once everything’s over. Such as the role of the Champion, in my case. It was like I was a puppet on a string.”

Raihan hadn’t realized any of it, either. Just like he had failed to realize his own problems until recently, until everything had been teetering on the edge of falling apart.

Well, he had realized them a long time ago, but hadn’t wanted to face them.

And Leon had had to endure the weight on his shoulders all alone… The sour taste of guilt rose to Raihan’s mouth. He couldn’t help but marvel at his own stupidity. “It was really fucked up, wasn’t it?”

The corner of Leon’s mouth quirked at his word choice. “Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.” His face turned somber again. “And it brought so much bad blood between us…”

Raihan sighed. “It shouldn’t have.”

“But it did.” There was no trace of accusation in Leon’s voice; he merely stated a fact in his usual no-nonsense way.

“…Yeah. It did. I’m sorry, Lee.”

“You already apologized.”

Raihan gave a small nod. _But you haven’t forgiven me, have you?_ is what he wanted to ask.

He kept his mouth shut. Leon didn’t owe him anything.

An awkward silence settled over them. Maybe Leon was waiting for him to open up, too, have a nice, mutual heart-to-heart, and divulge the underlying reasons for his behavior and line of thinking as well. Raihan knew it would be better to do this Leon’s way for a change – talk it out, put things into words even if it was difficult. But he also knew Leon wasn’t the only stubborn one currently present. The childish, unfair part of him clung to the notion that Leon hadn’t told him everything, either. He still recalled all the times when Leon had given him that odd look but decided to remain silent.

And it wasn’t like words could change or reverse or undo anything.

Keeping quiet didn’t do any of those things either, but it was easier. Safer.

And Leon knew too much already, right? Right. There was no need to put more weight on his shoulders.

A long moment of silence passed, then another one, before Leon spoke up again. “Do you… have time for lunch?”

Raihan met hopeful Leon’s eyes and his heart turned in his chest. He should get back to his Gym to meet with the engineers and go over the revised plans and blueprints and oversee the repairs and make some calls and take care of paperwork and insurances and budgeting and - -

Ah, what the hell. They could do without him for one afternoon.

So he nodded and took out his phone to call a Flying Taxi. He would put in the effort. No half-assing from now on. “It’s gonna be my treat.”

Leon didn’t object, simply offered him a gentle smile.

\- - -

**[258]**

Leon’s apartment looked exactly the way it had always had, and it made Raihan’s heart sting.

During their shared lunch the other day, Leon had asked him to come over for his birthday. They had met up in the North Wild Area, as Leon had been on his way back from Postwick. A battle had been on the agenda; Leon had even insisted on an immediate rematch afterwards. “I guess you could say I’m making up for lost time,” is what he had said and sent out the lead of one of his secondary teams. Luckily, Raihan had also had his off-team in tow. Just in case.

And now, a trip to the Pokémon Center and a Flying Taxi ride later, they were in Wyndon, sitting on Leon’s pristine living room couch.

Raihan got right down to business and fished a present out of the tote bag he had brought along. “Happy birthday,” he said as he handed it over. He had gotten Leon a new cap for his collection; it was pink and yellow and had a tacky Pinap berry print on the underside the brim.

Judging by the wide, doofy grin that nearly split Leon’s face in half when he opened the wrapper, he absolutely _loved_ it. Of course he would.

He immediately put the hat on even though they were indoors. “How do I look?”

What a dork, Raihan thought fondly. “It looks great on you.”

It did. And _Leon_ always looked gr- -

Raihan bit his lower lip. Okay, calm down. Don’t get carried away now. Keep going. “And… Uh.” He hastily shoved the tote bag in Leon’s hands and mumbled, “Happy belated birthday.”

“Oh? What’s this?” Leon peeked into the bag. Inside, there were five plain cardboard boxes of various sizes, each one neatly labeled with Leon’s Wyndon address. He lifted his eyes, looking absolutely bewildered. “Wha- -?”

“Just open them, idiot,” Raihan pleaded, flustered.

Leon complied.

When Leon didn’t say anything for a long time, Raihan felt the urge to explain just to fill the confounded silence. “I got them every year, but… never sent them to you.” Because I was too busy being stupid and in denial and wallowing in self-inflicted misery. “That was for your eighteenth birthday,” he said and vaguely gestured toward the Charizard plushie Leon had just unwrapped.

Leon looked up at Raihan in astonishment. “And this one?” he asked, picking up the book that had been in the first box he had opened.

“Nineteenth.”

Leon’s eyes wandered to the remaining boxes he had piled on the coffee table. “And these - -”

“Seventeenth, twentieth, twenty-first. Yeah.”

Slowly, Leon transferred his gaze back to the plushie. His hands began to shake slightly, and Raihan’s breath hitched. This was too much and too soon, why did he do this, it was such a stupid idea to begin with, it was weirding Leon out, why did he have to be such a fucking creep - -

“I knew it.” Leon’s words came in a hoarse whisper.

“Knew what?” Raihan asked with trepidation, his stomach tying up in all sorts of knots. He stared as Leon wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Was he crying? Oh shit he _was_ crying fuck fuck fuck - -

“That you never stopped liking me.” Leon hugged the plushie tightly and smiled brilliantly through his tears. “Just like you said you wouldn’t, all those years ago.”

Oh, he sure hadn’t.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Raihan mumbled awkwardly.

Leon blinked rapidly and for a split second, his face went blank. Then he smiled again and brushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Right,” he agreed and picked up the next box. “Thank you, Rai.”

. . .

There was a more formal gathering later in the evening. The Champion’s birthday celebration in the Rose of the Rondelands’ banquet hall was a yearly League tradition. Needless to say, Leon wasn’t the reigning Champion anymore, but why cancel a perfectly good party when all the necessary arrangements had been made well in advance?

Everyone who had _anything_ to do with the League was invited: the Gym Leaders, representatives from the sponsoring companies, successful Gym Challengers, you name it. It was the kind of party that was all about networking and making pleasant small talk and putting up with a menu which consisted solely of ridiculously small appetizers and cradling the same flute of too dry sparkling wine in your hands till it got all flat and stale and exponentially more undrinkable the longer the night stretched on.

It was also a farewell party of sorts, although it wouldn’t have seemed that way to an outsider; Leon’s bubbly personality and his enthusiasm about the new Champion kept everyone in good spirits.

For the first time in a very long time, Raihan didn’t feel uncomfortable being at the same party as Leon. Not that Raihan had been at this specific party in years – the last time he had been there, he had been too young to not-enjoy the sparkling wine, so he had not-enjoyed the equally terrible non-alcoholic option instead – but he had been to plenty of other similar functions which weren’t directly associated with his bitter rival. Even mingling with the other guests was easier overall now that he didn’t have to constantly be wary of Leon’s existence.

Whenever he happened to be within earshot, he listened in as Leon excitedly told each and every one of his guests about his plans for the now-vacant Rose Tower. Not once did he get tired of it even though he heard the same fragmented explanations dozens of times and had spent the afternoon listening to even more excited and detailed descriptions over takeout dinner at Leon’s.

It seemed like Leon’s Battle Tower plans were just a few short steps away from becoming reality; he had been developing the idea for a long time, after all. Once he got the ball rolling, there would be no stopping him.

What were his other plans about? Only time would tell, Raihan supposed and took a sip from his flute.

Huh. Was it just him, or did the sparkling wine taste decent this time?

\- - -

**[277]**

The repairs of Hammerlocke Gym had been recently finished, just in time before the early first snow had fallen. Now it was as if it had never been the center stage of a looming apocalypse. Everything was up and running as smoothly as ever. Aside from the Energy Plant, obviously. It would get repurposed eventually.

The renovated Gym had just needed the League Chairman’s seal of approval – that is to say, Leon’s. So Raihan had given him a tour, gone over all the changes and explained how the budget had been used, and Leon had nodded along, jotted down notes and asked for more detailed information when needed. It was official League business, sure, but it hadn’t felt that way with all the laughter and playful bickering sprinkled in.

They had had a Pokémon battle, too, at Leon’s insistence. “The restored pitch needs a test run, right?” he had asked with a conspiratorial smile. It wasn’t part of the protocol and they both knew it and it had only made the match taste even sweeter.

Even though he had stepped up to run the League and gotten the Battle Tower into working order already, Leon seemed to have more free time on his hands than he knew what to do with. Or maybe it only seemed that way to Raihan since now Leon was free to spend his free time however he pleased; he was still very much a workaholic. Old habits die hard.

Raihan was in no way complaining, but he had to admit that it was a bit jarring, going from not properly meeting for years to seeing each other at least once a week and messaging daily. Up until now, during the past couple of months, they had hung out either in the Wild Area and other public spaces or at Leon’s place in Wyndon. It was comfortable, it was familiar, it was business as usual – that’s how things had gone back in the day. Then again, they didn’t really have any reason to keep going like that if they wanted to wholly mend things between them and move on.

So Raihan had invited Leon over after the tour at the Gym. He wasn’t sure who had been more surprised by it, him or Leon.

Raihan had moved into the apartment after his extended traineeship had ended; no Leader lived in their own Gym’s dorms, after all. Even though it was larger than any living space he had ever been able to call his very own, it paled in comparison to Leon’s Wyndon flat in both size and opulence.

While Raihan was still taking off his outerwear, Leon was already peering through the doorway into the living room and the open-plan kitchen, brimming with energy and avid curiosity as always. It was somewhat strange to have someone over, especially since that someone was Leon – he had come to visit him in the dorms only twice. Well, maybe Raihan would get used to this in time. In fact, it was something he _wanted_ to get used to.

“Oh, you still have some of the stuff you had in the dorms!” Leon exclaimed. “I remember that poster! You finally got it framed!” He turned around to look at Raihan and noticed the piece of furniture in the corner of the entryway. “Ah! And that’s the dresser I helped you assemble, right?”

Raihan crossed his arms. “More like you watched and kept coming up with awful dresser-related puns while _I_ put it together all by myself,” he retorted.

“I also fed you snacks while you worked. Don’t forget that part. It’s very important.” Leon grinned at him. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“The puns sure weren’t funny.”

Leon’s smile only widened. “But you still laughed. A lot. At every single one.”

Raihan couldn’t help grinning back at him. “Don’t make me admit it out loud.”

Sometimes, like now, Raihan could have sworn Leon was deliberately reminding him of all the good times they had had together. Not that he minded. He had to admit that it was nice, seeing things filtered through a different lens for a change.

He hung up his coat and turned back around to see Leon slipping in a door that had been left slightly ajar, seemingly with no trace of hesitation or tact.

Oh. Okay, then. Looks like he wanted an apartment tour, too. Raihan trailed after him and leaned on the doorframe. “The bedroom,” he said needlessly. As if Leon couldn’t tell. “Nothing spectacular. But the walk-in closet’s pretty nice.”

“Everything’s nice,” Leon sighed dreamily. He was standing by the foot of the bed, his eyes roving over the photos adorning the walls. Raihan had gotten some of his personal favorite shots framed: one wall was reserved for experimental and artsy pieces, two for the more traditional cityscapes and macro shots of plants and flowers, and the portraits of each of his Pokémon were hanging above the bed.

Leon’s gaze trailed to the bedside table. For a moment, he just stared at the Duraludon plushie sitting on it but then he stepped closer and picked it up.

Raihan swallowed. Why did he feel so awkward all of a sudden?

“Rai…”

“Yeah?”

Leon was quiet for a long while with his back to Raihan. Finally he said, “Duraludon are 1.8 meters tall on average. So, if this was on scale, the scarf would be nearly four meters long.”

“Really?” Raihan could tell that it wasn’t what Leon was going to say originally, but he kept the conversation going. “I wonder how much yarn you would need to knit it.”

“About a thousand yards, or five skeins, if you use 5.5-millimeter needles and worsted-weight yarn,” came Leon’s immediate reply. He carefully placed the plushie back on the table and glanced at Raihan over his shoulder. “I asked Professor Magnolia,” he added meekly.

“…Huh.”

Leon lingered for a while longer and even peeked into the pretty nice walk-in closet before the pair continued on with the tour. In the living room Raihan perched himself on the arm rest of the couch and watched as Leon continued looking around. He oohed and aahed at the eight complete Gym Badge sets Raihan had in a display case next to his desk, ran his fingers along the spines of the well-read paperbacks standing in neat rows on the bookshelves, and eventually began leafing through the book he had mailed to Raihan on his twentieth birthday – _The Complete History of Galar_ , signed by the author. Although ‘complete’ was a huge overstatement, as Sonia’s newly published book had demonstrated.

“You know… I kept everything you sent me,” Raihan said stupidly. Apparently, he just couldn’t stop stating the obvious.

The words elicited a small smile from Leon. “I’ve never seen you wear the hoodie I got you three years ago, though.” He closed the book and put it back on the shelf. “Not even in a selfie.”

Raihan found no reply, so he pulled out his phone and tapped away while Leon kept going through his book collection.

A minute or two later, Leon’s pocket buzzed. He re-shelved another book, checked his phone and let out a surprised laugh. “I knew it’d be a perfect fit.” He kept scrolling for a long time, the smile on his face widening by the second. “You haven’t posted these anywhere,” he pointed out.

Raihan stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his seat, trying his best to appear casual. “Exclusive content. Just for you.”

Leon quickly turned back toward the bookcase, but Raihan could have sworn his cheeks had flushed red. Must have imagined it.

. . .

In the evening, the apartment was filled with the scent of spices and the soft sound of the radio playing in the background. Raihan kept an eye on the curry while Leon was washing lettuce in the sink. He was still hopeless in the kitchen, but Raihan had assigned him some of the simpler tasks that didn’t involve the stove.

Gradually, Raihan had gotten over the awkwardness that had hung over him all afternoon. He had gotten used to this once already – cooking together, chatting away and keeping Leon out of trouble – albeit in a different time and a different place. Maybe that’s why it was easier to get used to it here and now.

Whatever the reason, it felt cozy. Natural.

“This is like the good old days,” Leon said during a lull in the conversation. “When everything was easy and effortless between us.”

Raihan considered Leon’s words for a while. “True. But I don’t think it ever was very simple or easy, our friendship,” he noted as he began plating their food. “We both were, and are, difficult people in our own way, leading difficult lives.”

“Mm. You’re right. It wasn’t always easy,” Leon agreed with a smile. “But it was, and is, worth every bit of trouble.”

Raihan nodded. It was worth it. It really was.

And there, sitting next to Leon at the small kitchen table and sharing a homemade meal, Raihan finally felt something unraveling in him.

Maybe it was true that words couldn’t change or reverse or undo anything, but maybe they could do something else instead.

And so, before he even realized it, he had started talking.

Even though some irrational part of him was screaming that he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, it’d only end badly just like it always did when he showed too much of himself, he told Leon bits and pieces here and there; going over a single event or point in time wouldn’t have been enough, as everything melded together to form a complex and ugly tangle. He talked about the place he had refused to call home since the age of nine, about the things that had been going on and the whispers going round the playground during the last two years of primary school, about Nessa and the assumptions which led to misunderstandings on his part and the rift between them, about the paralyzing fear of history repeating itself, about the shit he had internalized during that time which he still carried with him and would probably never get rid of completely.

At some point, Leon placed his hand upon his, and Raihan let him.

He still didn’t tell Leon everything and the words that did come out of his mouth did so haltingly and in a disorderly fashion, but it was more than he had ever told anyone – perhaps more than he had even verbalized to himself. All of it may have been the underlying reason, the origin of the storm, but he wasn’t asking for forgiveness or anything of the sort. His issues were not an excuse to act the way he had.

Still, once he had finished, his heart felt a bit lighter.

“Thank you for telling me,” Leon said solemnly, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Raihan tried for a smile. “Thank you for waiting.”

. . .

The evening turned into an extempore movie night. It was already late when Raihan saw Leon to the door.

Leon was buttoning up his coat when he abruptly stopped. “Rai, I… Before I go, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

An involuntary shudder ran up Raihan’s spine. Those words had never preceded anything good.

In the ensuing silence, Leon shifted his weight from one foot to the other and studied Raihan’s face. Then, slowly, he stepped closer and gathered Raihan in his arms.

Raihan’s heart skipped several beats.

“I… I forgive you,” Leon murmured. “Maybe I shouldn’t, but I want to. I want to. This is the choice I want to make.”

Cautiously, Raihan slipped his arms around Leon and returned the embrace.

“We both hurt each other badly and that fact’s not going to change, but… Maybe it’s cliché, but I want to believe that it made us stronger.” Leon paused for a moment. “And we will hurt each other again. That’s just life. But from now on, I want us to be able to talk about anything, no matter how difficult or scary, before things get out of hand.”

Raihan wasn’t sure if he was able to do that, but he would try. He would try.

“Let’s just leave all that messiness behind us, okay?” Leon continued quietly. “It’s in the past now. I’m not saying we should pretend none of it ever happened, but… I want us to learn from it, and keep learning from it, and treat each other better in the future. And ourselves, too.”

Raihan closed his stinging eyes and dropped his head onto Leon’s shoulder.

Leon held him a bit closer. “We’re making this work. And we’ll keep making it work. Right?”

“Yeah,” Raihan managed before choking on a sob.

And for the first time in over eleven years, he didn’t try to hide his tears from anyone, not even himself.

And Leon stayed and held him through it all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s here! the finale!
> 
> *hides face in hands* gosh these two are so embarrassing

**[289]**

On New Year’s Day, the Champion smiled at all of Galar through the television screen, and Raihan couldn’t help but feel deeply ambivalent about it.

Their demeanor reminded him of a young Leon. They always had, in a way, with their contagious enthusiasm and never-ending drive to get better. Now they were full of nervous energy but keeping it in check behind endless ear-to-ear smiles as they gave excited answers to the interviewer’s questions with child-like sincerity.

Well, they _were_ a child. It was bizarre, now that he thought about it; not that they had won, but that children so young were allowed to participate in the Challenge in the first place. Sure, he had been one of those children back in the day, even younger than the current Champion was, but still.

At least Rose was out of the picture now and the new Champion was among better grown-ups. Leon had made sure of it.

Nonetheless, the kid seemed to be faring well now. They had a bright future ahead of them.

If watching the Champion’s annual televised interview extravaganza was a New Year’s staple for Raihan, so was the party the night before. The New Year’s celebration in the Rose of the Rondelands’ royal suite was a yearly League tradition, and only those of legal drinking age in the tight-knit community in the very center of the League were invited – that is to say, namely some of the Gym Leaders and members of the Gym staffs. Leon had showed up every year, too – usually right after Raihan had let himself relax, thinking that the Champion wouldn’t be coming after all – and completely thrown Raihan for a loop despite awkwardly keeping his distance.

It was the kind of party that was all about party games and loud music and nothing but snack foods and unhealthy amounts of booze always within arm’s reach and everyone watching the fireworks from the balcony and Raihan mustering all of his willpower to stay sober enough to keep himself from spontaneously kissing Leon when the clock struck midnight.

This year, the last point on that list it had proven even harder to do than usual; Raihan had learned that Leon got even more touchy-feely than normal after a drink or two, and that fact had definitely been detrimental to his aplomb and self-restraint. Not to mention how the vibrant glow of the fireworks had only further amplified Leon’s breathtaking beauty as he stood way too close to Raihan and groggily leaned his head against Raihan’s shoulder with a pleased smile plastered on his stupidly handsome face and the bright multi-colored lights reflecting in his infuriatingly enthralling golden eyes and Raihan had wanted to punch himself right in the gut for thinking about such things because they were _friends_ for crying out loud and oh _fuck_ letting his feelings go was incredibly, frustratingly, unfairly difficult.

If only falling out of love was as easy as falling in love.

Because yes, Raihan was still in love. Stupidly, hopelessly, pitifully in love. Just like he had been for years.

His heart had never ceased doing whatever the fuck it wanted.

“Are you gonna participate in the Cup this year?” Leon asked, jolting Raihan out of his musings.

They were nursing their post-party hangovers at Leon’s. Raihan’s only intent had been to see Leon home, to make sure he didn’t get lost on the way. He had every right to be worried as he didn’t recall ever seeing Leon drink anything at the party, let alone seen him drunk before. The ex-Champion must have let himself go since he didn’t have to worry about being presentable for an interview come morning.

But once Raihan had made the mistake of stepping over the threshold, Leon had shut the front door behind him and thwarted all his attempts to leave with perplexing finesse. At least he had eventually stopped invading Raihan’s personal space and slurring reminders about the size of his bed and days long gone in his ear. Some things – such as sleeping arrangements – that had been perfectly fine back when they were fourteen and nothing but platonic sure weren’t appropriate anymore when they were drunk twenty-somethings and one of the parties involved was a pining mess.

Given his less-than-dignified state last night, it was amazing how gracefully Leon was taking his hangover – even if he had a rather unflattering stubble on his face and his hair was sticking up in even more directions than usual. Raihan, on the other hand, was sprawling on Leon’s living room couch, only his upper body wrapped in the throw blanket he had draped over himself the night before, and barely functioning as a human being. Unless feeling like a soggy noodle both mentally and physically was the peak of human condition, because in that case he was doing a _fantastic_ job.

He had been scrolling away on his phone with the television on in the background when a bleary-eyed Leon had emerged from the bedroom a bit past noon. He had greeted Raihan with a bright smile and a contemplative look before shuffling into the kitchen. Before long, he had returned with a tray laden with two pre-packaged sandwiches, two tall glasses of water, a packet of breath mints and a couple painkillers. Once he had set the tray down, he had unceremoniously lifted Raihan’s legs to make room for himself on the other end of the couch and then plopped them back down to their original position, ankles crossed on top of the opposite armrest and bare calves now nearly touching Leon’s lap.

Okay, try not to think about it too much, Raihan told himself.

Leon was still slowly nibbling on his sandwich and intently watching the interview, so Raihan rubbed his face and gave himself a few more moments to get his sluggish thoughts in order. Maybe he had taken one too many post-midnight shots with Aria and Piers to calm his nerves. Or five too many. He wasn’t sure. He had lost count – which, considering his near-obsessive habit with numbers, was a bit concerning. At least he hadn’t gotten himself black-out drunk despite Piers’ best efforts.

Still, this must be the worst hangover he’s ever had.

Then again, this was the first hangover he had suffered in Leon’s company, so maybe it was the _best_ hangover he’s ever had.

Okay, wow, snap out of it already, you pathetic pile of mushy feelings in the elongated shape of a man. That’s more than enough sappiness for one day. Raihan let out a sigh and glanced at the clock. The sappiness quota had filled before one in the afternoon. Must’ve been his new record.

He finally found an answer to Leon’s question. “I dunno. I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe I’ll just focus on the Gym next season and consider it if they’re short of volunteer Gym Leader representatives.” It wouldn’t be the same without Leon, anyway.

Silence followed his words.

Raihan looked up from his phone to find Leon staring at him instead of watching the television. “What?” he demanded, more coarsely than he had meant to.

“It’s just… I guess I’m a bit surprised,” Leon said. “I mean, you were always so… eager. Training hard, coming up with new strategies, having a good time and just… _there_ , year after year. And later on, you were even going on and on about how you would claw your way to the top to dethrone me and how everyone should be looking forward to the day you beat me to the dirt and - -”

“Did I really put it like that?” Raihan interrupted before he could stop himself.

“You did,” Leon responded easily. “In those exact words. It was in an interview with _League and Beyond Online_ , shortly after you were appointed as Gym Leader.”

Great. Just great. Raihan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. Even if he had no reason to feel bad about his behavior last night, there sure were plenty of past mishaps to cringe at. Where’s the nearest rock he could crawl under and die? “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Leon waved him off. “The past is the past. Water under the bridge. Bygones.” He finished his sandwich and tried to throw the plastic wrapper on the coffee table but missed. “Besides, you said some nice things in that interview, too. In a roundabout way, sure, but I could tell.” He directed a self-satisfied grin at Raihan. “I still have the article bookmarked. They captured all your good angles in the photos…” His words tapered off as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So. Why the lack of enthusiasm?”

The question shouldn’t have caught Raihan off guard, but it did. “Uh. Well. Y-you know. Maybe…” He faltered, paused and swallowed. His mouth worked before his brain did. “Maybe becoming the Champion wasn’t the only motivating factor. Or even the most important one.”

Leon cocked his head to one side and watched Raihan with a questioning look in his eyes. Raihan bit his tongue and averted his gaze before he felt compelled to keep spouting even more stupid shit. Or before he gave in to the craving and did something incredibly idiotic which he had managed to refrain from doing the night before.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Leon finally turned his attention back to the television. “Well, at least now we can have more unofficial matches again,” Leon said with a soft smile and hugged the Charizard plushie he had brought with him from the bedroom closer to his chest.

“Yeah,” Raihan agreed with a small sigh. Not exactly what he had meant, but it was better that Leon had interpreted it that way. Besides, being with Leon and training with Leon were nearly synonymous, anyway. Pokémon battles had always been at the core of their rivalry and friendship.

When the next commercial break began, Leon glanced over at him. “Wanna do Doubles after dinner?”

Raihan grinned. “You’re on.”

. . .

**[290]**

Later in the evening, they had headed to one of the many public pitches in Wyndon. The crispy winter air had invigorated Raihan – though not in as positive a way as eating delivery food and lounging all day with Leon had – so the battle had gone pretty well all things considered. A few curious onlookers had stopped to watch their match from the sidelines, but mostly they had been left alone.

“Turtonator still knows Sunny Day, huh?” Leon asked as the pair of them started making their way back toward the city center after the match. “I haven’t seen you use that move in years.”

“Eh.” Raihan shrugged. “I suppose I thought sandstorms were more compatible with my image.”

Leon raised an eyebrow at him. “And now they aren’t?”

“They are.” Raihan flashed Leon a sharp grin which was only one step away from being a grimace. However, it quickly softened into a fond smile. “But even the great Raihan could use a little sunshine sometimes.”

Leon chuckled, and his breath hung in the air in large white puffs. “Especially on a chilly day like this. And _I_ could use something hot to drink right about now.” And with that, he confidently took a right turn at the next intersection and started down the street.

In the entirely wrong direction.

“The café’s this way, dumbass,” Raihan muttered, instinctively reached over and seized Leon’s hand.

Leon froze in place for a heartbeat, as did Raihan. Bad move. It wasn’t like him to initiate any kind of physical contact, and Leon knew it full well.

When Leon turned around, he was smiling abashedly, simultaneously thankful and apologetic. “Okay. Take us there, then.” He clumsily slotted his gloved fingers with Raihan’s and gave his hand a squeeze.

It was as if the duration of Sunny Day had been extended.

Even though Raihan felt like melting right then and there, he began leading the way without releasing Leon’s hand. The casual touch was nothing but a result of Leon’s inability to comprehend personal space and his non-existent sense of direction, after all. It didn’t mean anything. He didn’t need to make it weird.

Also, if he were to let go _now,_ it would only make things even weirder, wouldn’t it?

…Gods, he was so unbelievably hopeless.

\- - -

**[327]**

Flygon’s hind claws skidded on the ancient cobblestone as the dragon and his rider landed in front of the apartment building they both called home. The flight to Hammerlocke from Spikemuth wasn’t that long, but Raihan was glad to be able to stretch his legs nonetheless. He had spent a productive day taking pictures for the promotional material for Piers’ upcoming album. Piers had insisted on the barest possible set-up – “To keep things authentic”, as he had put it – which had, at the very least, made the gig an easy one, with no need to lug softboxes and other unwieldy studio equipment around.

Raihan smiled to himself as he absently scratched Flygon’s antennae. What had started as a hobby had become a part-time job, even outside social media stardom. Life worked in mysterious ways sometimes. As a matter of fact, it did so most times.

He and Piers had agreed upon the photoshoot a few weeks ago at Raihan’s birthday party. It had been nothing big – just a simple, casual get-together at Raihan’s place with half a dozen guests. Leon had been the one to encourage him to host it, and Leon had also been the first guest to arrive, several hours before anyone else. He must have scheduled himself extra travel time in case he got lost on the way. Whatever the reason, Raihan had been secretly happy that no one was there to witness just how long Leon had hugged him in greeting, so he had been able to indulge himself in the lingering embrace without too much embarrassment.

After handing Raihan his gift, Leon had set up the gaming console he had brought with him. Before long, they had settled on the couch and begun a new save file in a co-op platformer. The game in question the newest installment in a series they used to play together in their early teens, and Leon had given Raihan a rundown of the lore and the new mechanics since he knew that Raihan hadn’t played the previous couple games. “We can play through them together later!” Leon had cheerily told him. “The single-player campaigns weren’t nearly as fun!”

Once other guests had begun showing up, they had ordered some pizzas to share and switched to a multiplayer party game. All in all, the night had been surprisingly enjoyable. Raihan knew that he shouldn’t be using a word like ‘surprisingly’ in this context, but that’s how he had felt. But he was getting better about it – not expecting the worst all the time, that is.

Later, when the games had been turned off and the conversations had started to die down and the guests had begun to disperse, Leon had fallen asleep against Raihan’s shoulder. Nessa had shot him several knowing looks on her way out with Sonia on her arm, Piers had made some snide comments about it by way of farewell, and Raihan had resisted the urge to give them all the finger. It would have been a touch too dramatic, even for him. And he hadn’t really minded. Let the others tease if they felt like it; after all, he had already shot down any rumors and made it clear to everyone, in private, that there was nothing like _that_ between him and Leon.

Nothing mutual, anyway, he had added silently. But they didn’t need to know that.

Moreover, what he and Leon did currently have was wonderful in and of its own. All winter and spring long, they had gradually grown even closer and gone back to their familiar way of being, the close and comfortable friendship they had once shared. It filled Raihan’s chest with a warmth beyond words. He wouldn’t trade it for anything.

…Well, there was _one_ thing he would trade it for in a heartbeat.

With a sigh, he had carefully gotten up from the couch, eased Leon into a more comfortable sleeping position, fetched him the extra comforter from the bedroom and tucked him in. That one thing wasn’t meant to be, and he had come to accept it. They had both worked hard to get this far. He wouldn’t take the risk of ruining everything again with another pointless confession.

As long as he had this, he was content.

Raihan had just recalled Flygon into his ball and was still lost in thought when his Rotom Phone flew out of his pocket to get his attention – Leon was calling him. Glancing at the clock, he determined that he had plenty of time before this week’s appointment, so he took the video call and hoped he looked at least somewhat decent in his wind-swept state.

Leon didn’t have any particular reason to call him; he rarely did. But, Raihan supposed, one didn’t really have to have a reason to call a friend other than wanting to spend time with them. While he climbed the ten-odd flights of stairs to his apartment, Leon filled him on the evening classes he was taking – his most recent interests were renewable energy sources and, completely unrelatedly, ceramics.

Raihan had noted that talking about nothing in particular with Leon before a session made it a bit easier, loosened him up mentally. He still felt drained after every single one, though. He had thought that talking about his issues with a professional over the phone would have been easier than face-to-face appointments, but nope, it was always difficult. But he was doing it, and that was the important part.

“Sounds real nice,” he remarked truthfully after listening to Leon’s account on the class projects he was currently working on. “Just don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m not! I’m having fun! This is what I want to do!” Leon assured him with a smile so wide that it made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Then his expression turned thoughtful and he stroked his chin. “That reminds me. The Battle Tower has been operating for six months now and you still haven’t been there properly! You should come visit!”

Was it the overworking or the fun that had reminded him? Knowing Leon, it was most likely the latter. Raihan huffed amicably and asked, “The grand opening doesn’t count, eh?” 

“Nope. You didn’t have a single battle that evening. Of course it doesn’t count,” Leon replied in his sensible tone of voice. “Plus, you’ve only seen the entrance hall. I’ll give you a tour, just like you gave me at Hammerlocke!”

Raihan snorted as he unlocked the door to his apartment. “A tour? From you? The guy who once got lost on Route 4?”

“Hey, try to have a little more faith in me. The Tower’s layout is practically Leon-proof! It’s super simple!”

“So is the Route. You can literally see Turffield Stadium after you exit the mine.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m only mean to people I like,” Raihan grinned and stuck out his tongue at Leon as if to prove his point.

Leon smiled a little but didn’t look at his screen. “I know. But I think there are better ways of showing that you care about someone.”

“Duly noted.” Raihan set his camera case on his desk next to his PC, opened the blinds and looked up to the brilliantly clear spring sky. Summer was just around the corner.

It would be pretty different this year, wouldn’t it? For a number of reasons.

He turned back toward his phone and beamed at Leon. “Okay. Next week?”

\- - -

**[328]**

Having finished with the day’s challengers, Leon had come down to meet Raihan at the front entrance of the Battle Tower – and, yes, he looked absolutely dashing in his new uniform. Well, it wasn’t new, per se, but it was Raihan’s first time seeing it in person. And it had been very hard for him not to stare.

It had quickly become clear to Raihan that the Tower truly was Leon-proof. There were no winding hallways nor intersecting corridors, just the massive main elevator. When the only directions you could take were up and down, you’d reach your destination eventually. For additional ease of getting around, Leon had a personal elevator that took you straight into his office on the second-highest floor. The second elevator was the only way of reaching it, though it also had select additional stops along the way on floors with congress rooms, small research labs and the offices of companies that still operated from there, all of which the owner of the Tower had to visit from time to time.

They had had a three-on-three battle on the pitch that was at the very top of the Tower. It was magnificent, both the arena and the match itself – the gentle mid-afternoon sunlight pouring in through the glass dome overhead had enveloped everything in a near-ethereal glow and to Raihan, it had felt like he and Leon had been more in sync than ever before.

After the match, they met in the middle of the pitch to shake hands, as per usual.

“That was our three hundred twenty-eighth Pokémon battle,” Raihan noted without thinking.

Leon’s eyes widened in surprise. “It was? You’re _still_ keeping count?”

Raihan shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Force of habit,” he said sheepishly and released his hold of Leon’s hand. “At least I stopped thinking about it in terms of wins and losses a while back. That wasn’t the important part, anyway.” It never should have been. He had let it define their friendship for way too long.

Leon tilted his head in puzzlement and looked at Raihan in that peculiar way again, golden eyes bright and alert. Even though the first time he had taken note of it had been years ago, Raihan had never gotten used to that particular way Leon looked at him. And now, it made him feel self-conscious, as if he had overstepped some invisible boundary. So he turned to go. He would grab his things he had left by the edge of the arena and then they could resume their tour of the building and forget this awkward exchange ever happened - -

“I’ve been keeping a mental tally, too.”

Leon’s sudden words stopped Raihan mid-step. “Oh?” He turned back toward Leon. “Of what?”

Leon looked aside and didn’t reply.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Raihan prodded.

“Because it’s embarrassing.”

“What is?”

“The tally.” Leon worried his lower lip and fidgeted with the brim of his snapback. He was silent for a long moment, as if he had to force the next words out. “It’s… It’s for all the times I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

Raihan’s brain shut down. He must have heard that wrong. “ _What?_ ”

Leon hid his face behind his hat. “And this very moment is number one thousand two hundred forty-one.”

One thousand two hundred forty-one. _One thousand two hun- -_

“You’re joking,” Raihan whispered, his mind reeling.

“I’m not.”

He wasn’t. Raihan would have been able to tell if he was lying. Leon had always been a terrible liar.

“How… How long have you kept the tally going?”

Leon peeked over his cap at Raihan. “Since I was fifteen,” he mumbled. He concealed his face again and continued, his voice barely audible, “It has never stopped. And… Lately, the numbers have been racking up at an alarming rate again.”

All Raihan could do was stand and stare. None of Leon’s words made any sense.

But, at the same time, they made so much sense.

All this time he had been so caught up in his own head to notice anything. And even if – _when_ – he had, he had been quick to dismiss everything as nothing but delusional fancies or him reading too much into things.

All this time he had been even more blind than he had thought he was.

Shocked beyond both words and nervousness, Raihan walked back to Leon, coming to a stop half a step closer than they had been while shaking hands. Once he had gingerly took hold of Leon’s wrist and moved his hat out of the way, his heart stuttered. Leon had absolutely no right looking this cute with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his face tinted in a dozen different shades of red.

“I’m sorry,” Leon blurted out, his words coming out in a jumble, “I shouldn’t have, I know we promised to talk about everything and I’m eating my own words here but please just forget I said anythi- -”

“Lee. Look at me.”

Three seconds of silence. Raihan counted them.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, Leon opened his eyes and met Raihan’s gaze.

Another three seconds.

Raihan looked deep in those enthralling golden eyes and drew a shaky breath. “Why haven’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Kissed me.”

Leon’s hat slipped from his grip and fell silently on the floor.

While Raihan could come up with multiple explanations, ranging from highly probable – _After what had happened between us, I wanted us to become friends again first and take some time to sort things out –_ to somewhat likely – _As time went by and you didn’t make a move, I thought you weren’t interested anymore_ – to absolutely ridiculous – _No, actually, I_ did _master the art of lying while you weren’t paying attention and this is nothing but an elaborate prank, haha gotcha!_ – he wanted to hear it from Leon.

But the only thing that came out of Leon’s mouth was a flustered, wordless stammer of various vowel sounds.

Adorable.

Raihan let go of Leon’s wrist and placed his trembling hands on the other man’s hips instead. “Go ahead.” He leaned down with his heart in his mouth and a smile on his lips. “I definitely won’t interrupt you.”

Leon stared at him blankly. Then, slowly, his face lit up in understanding. He coyly draped his arms around Raihan’s shoulders and breathed, “Promise?”

Raihan managed a nod.

He was so entranced by the sight of Leon inching closer and closer that he almost forgot to close his eyes when their lips finally, finally, met in a tender kiss.

Just as Raihan’s overclocked brain had grasped the situation – that it was real and it was actually happening and holy _shit_ Leon was kissing him and he was kissing Leon back what the _fuck_ – it was already over.

Still blushing, Leon drew back and lowered his eyes.

Raihan straightened up after a few baffled heartbeats. “T-that’s it?” He let his hands fall away from Leon’s hips. “For something you’ve wanted to do for seven years, that sure was tame,” he jabbed, trying and failing to hide how absolutely flustered he felt behind a veil of snarkiness.

Leon promptly flushed an even deeper red and snapped his gaze back to Raihan’s face. “You’re _seriously_ gonna tease me about my first kiss?” he sputtered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Raihan mimicked Leon’s pose. “Didn’t we have this conversation just last week?” he shot back.

For a moment, Leon looked totally dumbstruck again. Then a resolute smile bloomed on his lips. “We did.” He fixed his posture and tilted his chin up. There was a glint of challenge dancing in his eyes as he peered up at Raihan. “So why don’t you heed my words and show me just how much you like me, instead of sending me mixed signals for…” He paused for a moment and then hazarded a guess, “Another decade or so?”

Raihan scoffed and looked away from Leon’s intense eyes. “Always with the advice.”

…But Leon always gave sound advice.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Raihan unfolded his arms. He could feel his face burning up like nobody’s business as cupped Leon’s face in his hands, leaned in and took his time showing him.

And told him, too, once they had parted. Just in case it hadn’t been obvious enough.

A near-overwhelming surge of warmth filled his heart when Leon replied with breathless words hehad never even dared to dream of hearing.

“I love you, too.”

\- - -

\- - -

**[890]**

Raihan smiled down at his phone as he skimmed through the usual post-battle photos he had just taken. Each one looked amazing. The rings had caught the summer sunlight just as nicely as he had thought they would.

He’d have to carefully consider which one to post. It would be their first uploaded picture together with their rings plainly visible. Even though he and Leon hadn’t tried to hide them up until now – and, consequently, the occasional paparazzi shot had made it to the tabloids over the past few weeks – having them proudly on display on Raihan’s feed would probably cause the entire region to lose their collective minds.

But later. Right now, someone more important than the entire region was in need of his attention. Leon was tugging at his hand, beckoning him to get back to their picnic blanket, undoubtedly impatient to sink his teeth in the berry tart he had helped Raihan bake for dessert the night before.

Raihan pocketed his phone and twined his fingers with Leon’s. “By the way, that was our eight hundred ninetieth battle,” he noted as they started walking back toward their campsite by the lake.

“Still keeping count, huh?” Leon teased and bumped shoulders with him.

It made Raihan laugh. “You know me.”

Leon sounded well pleased with himself when he replied, “That I do.”

He really did, inside and out. Leon knew all his imperfections and doubts and faults and unhealthy thought patterns, and had still stayed by his side through all these years.

And vice versa.

If that wasn’t love, nothing was.

Raihan glanced to his left. Leon was looking at him expectantly, with his head slightly tilted to one side. Raihan had learned to recognize that gesture and the lingering, starry-eyed gaze accompanying it – and he knew what Leon was hoping for whenever he looked at him like that.

The pair’s steps slowed down and then came to a stop. When Raihan leaned in for a kiss, his fiancé got up on his tiptoes to meet him halfway.

Sometimes Raihan still wondered what he had done right to deserve such happiness. Maybe it had nothing to do with deserving. Maybe sometimes all it took was extending a helping hand to a stranger to begin an extraordinary journey. Maybe sometimes you had to just bare it all and trust that the person next to you would stay. Maybe sometimes things just happened because you let them happen instead of fighting back. Maybe you just had to let the sunshine in instead of clinging to the storm.

Or maybe it had everything to do with deserving – each and every person deserved happiness such as this. Even him.

Maybe just existing was more than enough.

After they had parted, Leon admitted, “Sadly, I lost count of our kisses a while back.”

Oh. That’s new. Raihan couldn’t help the silly smile that broke out on his face. Who had given Leon permission to be this stinking cute? “Really?”

“I mean…” There was a light dusting of pink on Leon’s cheeks. “You know. _Sometimes_ it’s hard to determine where one kiss ends and another one begins.”

“Mm. That’s valid.” Raihan wasn’t sure if even he himself would have been able to keep track of them. It would have been fun to try, at the very least. He brought his free hand up to brush a few strands of Leon’s ombré hair behind his ear. “But there have been more than eight hundred and ninety of them, yeah?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Leon laughed. “If I had to guess, I’d say there have been _at least_ three times that.” He released Raihan’s hand in order to drape both of his arms around his shoulders. There was a playful glint in his eye when he continued in a hushed voice, “And there are countless more to come.”

Chuckling, Raihan pressed his forehead to Leon’s. “Sounds perfect.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Indeed, Raihan silently agreed as he leaned in to kiss Leon’s sunny smile again. There would always be a next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaand that’s a wrap! thanks for reading this rollercoaster of feelings and idiocy and bad life choices and copious amounts of weather symbolism! i hope you enjoyed. writing this sure was a lot of fun even though it was also stupidly difficult at times.
> 
> as i said at the beginning, this was supposed to be a one-shot. i still think it works best when read in one go, but if i had tried to produce nearly 40k words without dividing them into chapters, i would probably never have finished this fic. so @ everyone who reads this post-completion: you made the right choice LOL
> 
> seriously tho, thanks so much for everyone who’s been reading along, i super appreciate it and all the comments i’ve gotten, you’re the best
> 
> i’ve also been writing a retelling/extension of one specific scene from leon’s pov because i have lots of feels and literally zero self-control so............. there’s a bit more to come. possibly. maybe. perhaps. we’ll see if i like the result enough to post it. i would’ve liked to finish and post it this year (so that i would’ve reached 150k published words in 2020. i’m only 3k short!!) but sadly that’s not gonna happen. so much to do, so little time, so few brain cells
> 
> also, fun fact: i chose most of the numbers for the counters throughout the fic pretty randomly, but the last three all have a reason! 328 is trapinch’s national dex number, 1,241 is leon and raihan’s league numbers smushed together, and 890 is eternatus’ national dex number. you know, as in eternity, some things are meant to last, there’s always a next time, all that jazz. yes i’m cheesy and no i don’t care
> 
> i could babble on about this fic for five million years but i’m gonna stop here. so uh. let me know what you think i guess. peace out!


End file.
